Woody

By Kevin Donovan

Published on Sep 23, 2010

Gay

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The following story is fiction. No person or event contained herein is factual. It contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between males. ALL are above the age of legal consent. If these descriptions are offensive to you, if they are illegal in your area, or if you yourself are underage, do not read any further. By all means practice safe and responsible sex.

"WOODY"

When I was still in high school, but no longer "jail bait," I had already grown a whopper of a cock, much like I have now at over eight and a half inches by six around. Like most guys that age, though, I had relatively little control over it. At the slightest provocation, or none at all, it was likely to inflate to a raging hard-on. I figured out long ago why guys tend to carry their books dangling at their hips, ready to provide cover at any time. Once, for example, I was late to Algebra because Todd Leftwich, a hunky jock I lusted after at the time, sat down on the lunch table just opposite me and started making out like fishing worms with Melanie Taylor, his girlfriend of the time.

Todd got turned on, and his dick got hard, pooching out his jeans into a huge bulge. That turned me on, and I got a throbber, too, under the table. Then the bell rang. Todd and Melanie slouched off to class still moving like Siamese twins, but I was stuck. I had to sit there for several minutes playing with my mashed potatoes and thinking "soft" thoughts, until it was safe to get up. By that time, I was late to class, and that dragon, Ms. Whitmore gave me detention.

There was another time, though, when I could not hide the facts. In the spring, I decided to run for SGA Treasurer, for some reason which I cannot now imagine. There was an all-school assembly to kick off the campaign, and I had to make a speech on stage in the auditorium. All of us candidates sat in a semi-circle on the stage. The outgoing officers who were seniors took part in the introductions, and then went down to the front row to sit while we took our turns speaking. The outgoing president, Chad Moore, was a senior, and one of my sex-gods, though he was not much older, and only a grade ahead of me. He was tall and lanky, though very well muscled, with sandy hair, a big, wide smile with perfect teeth, broad shoulders, and glorious, long legs. He was a football end, a track pole vaulter, a basketball forward--the all-around, all- American golden boy jock. After his welcome, he descended to the front row and sprawled, as guys will do, on a middle seat right in front of the flimsy podium stand, with his long legs stretched out, the loafers half kicked off of his slim, manly feet, and his blazer hanging open, tie askew. He was quite a picture. But while Rachel Underwood, one of my opponents, was making her clever, perky appeal for votes, Chad was leering past her at his squeeze du jour, Robin Adams, seated next to me on the stage. Robin was outgoing secretary, but as a junior, she was running for vice-president for the coming year. Robin must have been shooting squirrels back at Chad, because he was rapt. His long right hand slid absently down to his thigh, where a distinct tube shape was forming, complete with corona ridge seemingly halfway down the long inseam toward the knee. I figured he was wearing either no underwear or very thin boxers, because there seemed to be little covering that growing tubesteak on which my eyes were fastened.

Rachel finished and sat down, and I had to get up to speak. It was awkward because my boner was already at about 60% within my briefs. I got to the little stand, which offered no cover at all, and somehow began to babble on autopilot. But meanwhile, my eyes were drawn inescapably to the growing erection in Chad's pants while he ogled Robin. My cock headed east, expanding rapidly. I began to stammer a little, and sweat popped out on my brow.

What did me in was that, unbeknownst to Chad, his dick head produced a dark spot of pre-cum, first dime sized, then quarter sized, about halfway down the thigh of his khaki trousers. Inspired, my boner put on a surge and popped out of the leg of my Calvins into the relative freedom of my pleated dress slacks. It was Tent City.

There was no way anyone in the auditorium could have missed it. As I babbled inanely, the swell of laughter, complete with knee slapping and elbow poking, swept across the crowd. Even the teachers were laughing. I could see Mr. Hunter, my hot- looking young drivers' ed. teacher, hunching his shoulders, which shook uncontrollably. His face was turning red with the futility of holding in his mirth.

Just before I turned, in utter humiliation, to slink back to my seat, I saw Chad, distracted by the uproar, look over at me to see what was the cause of the laughter. His eyes locked briefly on mine as he straightened up, concealing his own swollen condition, and he gave me a placid, knowing smile. I was crushed. Not only did everybody present know I had a major boner, but Chad knew why.

The rest of the day, I contemplated the best and least painful ways to take myself out of this cold and hostile world. It was a good thing I did not act quickly though, because by morning it became clear that my wayward penis had made of me a kind of celebrity at the school. Teachers were tenderly solicitous. Guys grinned when they saw me, but mostly they were either envious of what I had to show off, or deeply aware that it could have been them, and they laid off the teasing more than I would ever have expected. Girls decided that I might be a more interesting guy than they had thought, and I caught a lot of flirting. Everyone, even some teachers, took up calling me "Woody" for the rest of my high school career. Overnight, all of my campaign posters became inscribed with "Vote Woody" or "The Wood Man." Though before, I had been at best a long shot in the election, I wound up winning hands down. It was quite a strange turn of events.

A couple of weeks after the incident, my life took another surprising turn. I was at my locker, struggling to slide my lit. book out without having the whole tower of tomes come crashing out after it, when I felt a presence beside me and looked up to see the grinning face of none other than the beautiful Chad Moore.

For a moment, he just grinned his sexy, Prince William grin. Then, "So Woody, I figure you really owe me one now, don't you?" he asked. He leaned nonchalantly against the locker next to mine.

"Huh? Wha'?" was my clever response. I didn't know Chad even knew who I was.

"Well, it was because of me, wasn't it, that you had your little accident on stage the other day. And, let's face it, it was because of that same accident that you won the election. Hell, I should have been your fuckin' campaign manager! Don't worry about it, nobody knows except me, and I'm sure not going to tell anybody. Shit, if I'd known that was all it took to win an election, I'd have done it myself last year and saved myself $200 bucks in campaign favors." He cuffed me on the shoulder in that conspiratorial male-bonding way.

I was still thunderstruck that my divinity was actually speaking to me in such a friendly manner, and I just froze up. He didn't even seem pissed that I had been staring at his dick.

"Well, the thing is, Wood," Chad began to stammer now, no longer quite so poised, "You know I'm totally straight, right?" I nodded. "I'm going with Robin, you know, and I'm really hot for her. Still, you know she has cheerleader practice after school every day for the next six weeks.... And I don't have track on Mondays, so I get kind of bored.... And, great as she is, there are some things she just won't do, things I really like a lot, and,... well, I don't see why we shouldn't get to know one another, you know, maybe hang out sometimes?"

I was stupefied. Clearly, I wasn't giving the poor guy any help at all. I nodded again mutely.

"Good. You know my car. You wanna meet me there after school? We can play some pool or something at my place, OK?"

I nodded again, and Chad hustled away. By the time he turned the corner, though, he was smiling again and back in complete control.

It wasn't easy to concentrate for the rest of the day. I was torn between hope that Chad was somehow, miraculously, attracted to me, and fear that he might want to beat my ass for ogling his dick in front of the whole school. When the final bell rang, though, his car, a spiffy new convertible, drew me like a magnet. I stood beside it for a few minutes before he breezed up, grinning as if we did this every day. This guy could make an indicted Congressman look nervous. He would go far in this world, I thought.

It wasn't far to Chad's house, so there wasn't too much time for real conversation. He bragged a little about how many rubbers he went through every week with Robin, and how many of the other cheerleaders he had worked his way through before getting to her. He talked about his college scholarship in track as a long jumper, and the coming graduation. It didn't make any sense to me.

At his house, we went through a professionally decorated main level, straight to the downstairs rec room, which was equipped with a full-size pool table, a wet bar, fireplace, big-screen TV, and a huge semi-circular sofa. His folks obviously were pretty well off. He assured me that they both worked late and wouldn't be home until after six at the earliest. He opened a bag of Fritos and took some salsa and a couple of Cokes out of the fridge and began to munch on the chips.

"Let's shoot some pool. Eight-ball?"

I agreed, and we played kind of half-heartedly. Chad wasn't playing his best, and I actually beat him twice. After that, he was ready to make his move.

"Let's make this more interesting. A little bet?"

I nodded. So, I thought, we're on to the hustle. Now I get to find out what the Love God really wants from me. "But I don't have a lot of money."

"O.K., no money then. Strip Eight-ball. Sink a shot, drop one item. First one naked wins after sinking the eight." Then the clincher. "How about 'loser sucks winner'." This was his big gambit, the risk he had been building up to. I relaxed inwardly. For me, this was a win-win proposition, because I would be happy either way. Just getting naked with this hunk was a coup for me. I held back just a few seconds, though, to give him a little thrill of suspense. Then I nodded, with a subtle smile. The game began, or rather continued, for we had been sparring, really, for some time now.

I was pleased that Chad had made this a race to get naked, rather than the customary plan of making the losing hand strip. That boded well for my viewing pleasure, I thought. I was also impressed that he had thought this through enough to surmise that both of us were wearing exactly seven items of clothing. By the time we fought over the eight-ball, with luck we could both be starkers.

Sure enough, Chad was a changed man as a pool-shark. He sank four balls right off the bat, and dropped both shoes and socks. That was fine with me--I liked him playing barefoot, padding around in his slim, flexible, jock feet. He lifted a knee to take an awkward shot, and I smiled in appreciation of his sexy, bare raised calf, ankle, and arched instep. My turn was a good one, too, however, and I managed to get rid of my shoes.

The second round was less productive for Chad, but it did get his tee shirt off of him. I had seen him shirtless a number of times, at track meets, on the tennis court, at the swim club, all when he had supposedly not known I was watching. But this was a real treat, close up here in his own house. I studied his long, lean torso as he planned his shot. Even in a shirt, his wide shoulders and lean stomach were enticing. Without it, though, his pecs were revealed in sculpted but understated glory. He had a great tan, a sprinkle of light freckles also across the tops of the shoulders. His chest hair was light, just a generous sprinkle across the span between tits, and a narrow, teasing trail down to the navel and beyond into the top of the ragged boxer elastic which was now visible. He turned, leaning over the table, and stretched his brawny shoulders and back.

Maybe my staring unnerved him. He missed the shot. I responded by sinking two more, and got rid of my socks.

Then Chad sank one. He slid his shorts down, kicking them off and tossing them over the back of the sofa with a sly smile. I had been right about his underwear. For a well-to-do guy, he wasn't picky about his thread-bare boxers; they were as thin as tissue paper. I could clearly see the cleft of his ass underneath, and in front, the dangling tube that had gotten me into trouble two weeks before. This was looking good.

Somehow, I managed to pay enough attention to my game to sink one more ball, and I got to lose my shorts, too. I was wearing a very sexy (I thought) string bikini brief that didn't hide much. When I turned to take my next shot, Chad was sipping Coke and looking at me appraisingly, eyebrows raised. I guess he didn't know I was so uninhibited. He had messed up my concentration, though, and I missed my shot.

It was all over now. Chad just had to sink one ball, and then his flimsy boxers joined his clothing heap on the sofa. He'd been naked many times in the locker room, and after all, this had been his plan all along, so he wasn't really that modest or anything. At this point, though, I got the treat of watching him go after the eight ball in the nude, delectable cut cock dangling from his fluffy brown pube patch. He absent-mindedly gave his dick and balls a quick shake-out as if they had a little itch, but I knew he was arranging them for display. And what a nice ass he had! Smooth, sleek, firmly rounded. Good legs and great ass always go together. I smirked, and he missed, but at least he didn't scratch.

I sank my remaining ball, and off came the bikini. I caught Chad eyeing the competition in the crotch department as I sighted along the eight ball. These straight guys always make everything a competition. My cock bows before no man, so I was confident in that arena. Additionally, I do have a terrific ass, which Chad did not miss seeing. I'm not as tall and impressive as he is, and I'm not blonde, but I know I have a very good body to show off, too. But the placement of my cue ball was not good, and I missed my shot also, leaving Chad in great position for an easy corner shot. He sank it smoothly, and the game was over. Both of us had to be pleased with the outcome. We were both naked, and the cock-sucking was about to begin.

Chad grinned, now turning a little shy, which was not his customary mode, but cute nevertheless. He leaned his sweet butt on the edge of the table and gave me a coyly triumphant look, but said nothing. Then he placed his hands on either side of his hips, pushed himself up onto the edge of the table, slid his ass back onto the felt, and leaned back, his extended palms pressed to the tabletop. He spread his thighs a bit, his feet dangling over the side, and just watched me, waiting. It was time for me to pay up, and we both knew it.

I didn't protest or act coy. I just moved in between Chad's knees and rested my palms at his hips on the table edge, looking down at his big dick, which was elongating in anticipation. It was an easy five inches flaccid, and it had already grown to seven. It probably had another inch and a half to go to full mast. I leaned in, pressing slightly against his package with my own pubes.

I looked up into Chad's face. "Does Robin ever lick your tits?"

Chad exhaled in surprise and derision. Is breath smelled like corn chips. "Like hell. Robin doesn't lick much of anything. Why do you think I invited you over?"

I decided that it was not the time to take offense, and I just leaned in and wrapped my wet mouth around his firm, small, left nipple. He jumped involuntarily. Macho Chad was ticklish.

"Whoa, dude! Easy!... Well--don't stop, I like it, just go easy, O. K.?" I was relieved now. He had confessed that he liked what we were doing, and that made my situation much more comfortable.

We both laughed at his tenseness. I encircled the nip with my tongue, then, when he had gotten accustomed to the sensation, I returned to sucking a little. Meanwhile, I was surreptitiously sniffing his nearby underarm. His morning shower had largely worn off, and he had a sexy, male smell emanating from the pits. I moved over to give the right tit its fair share of attention. Then I began to lick my way down the center of his belly. He just watched and grinned. When I got to his crotch, though, I deliberately by- passed that mouth-watering cock, and slid around to his very nice balls, hanging loosely over the edge of the table in their almost hairless sack. I began to lick them, too, lifting them with my nose. They also had a sexy, musky, man smell about them. Chad spread his legs further, and he began to moan a little.

After a few minutes, he broke in, "Um... wasn't there something else you were supposed to suck?"

I had one of Chad's large, lovely testicles in my mouth. Chad flinched a little, nervously, as I answered. These were, after all, the family jewels. "Doan worr'. I'll ged arou' too't."

I had plans for big Chad first, though. I slipped off of his nut and worked my way a little lower, to that tender seam where thighs, scrotum, and asshole join. His breathing became more erratic. The moaning increased.

"Whew. I sure picked the right dude for this job." He was starting to breathe a little heavily. He pulled his feet up over my shoulders and held them aloft, giving me free access to the area under his balls.

Suddenly, I slid my mouth down wetly onto his pink, tight, young asshole with a big, slobbery smooch. Chad's feet and legs trembled, then went rigid as if he had been hit with a cattle prod. I stuck my tongue into his hole. It wasn't the cleanest I've ever encountered, but one of the tightest.

"God Fuckin' Damn!" screamed Chad. Then something like rigor mortis set in, his feet sticking up. He lay stiffly still, as if slain. I hoped the neighbors would not call the police. If they burst in on this scene, no doubt they would shoot me first and check his pulse later. Probably after they had finished sucking him off themselves.

"I never would have dreamed.... I can't believe you.... Man, that feels good!" Chad, who thought he was so cool and sophisticated, had never even imagined that anyone would do this to him. He raised his head and looked at me in amazement and appreciation. "Could you maybe teach a class on this shit? Like, to the cheerleading squad?" I kept eating away. "...Ohhh, man....I've fucked at least three-fourths of those girls, and not one of them did anything like this!"

I couldn't answer because I had my tongue deep in Chad's ass. My lips encircled his ring. I slurped and slobbered. Chad's moans turned into groans of pleasure as his sphincter relaxed and my tongue slithered deeper.

After several minutes, I began to move back up again toward my agreed-upon target. I lipped the base of his pole, then slid slickly up the shaft, which drooled with pre- cum from his anal stimulations. It had reached its maximum proportions long since, at least as long as mine, but slimmer. It had a nice pinkish complexion, and it was very straight and smooth, not veiny. At the end, that nice prominent head had plumped up to a big, out-of-proportion spear point to cap the lance.

I engulfed the dripping cock head and swished it around in my mouth. More groaning from the middle of the table as Chad lay back in rapture. This was what he had been craving, and he was totally focused on enjoying every tingling neuron. Then I began the journey downward, taking more and more of the colossus into my mouth as I pushed down. I made it halfway, then drew back for a breath, then descended even further. The big head filled the back of my throat, meeting resistance at my tonsils. I had to concentrate on relaxing the muscles, imaging the length of the phallus sliding down my gullet. Slowly, the reality came to match the mental picture as the end of Chad's dick slid further and further into my esophagus. At last, my lips caressed his dark golden pubes. My tongue swept the base of his poker as my throat gripped its head. Chad raised his head to watch, amazed. His marvelous cock was gone, consumed by my hungry mouth. I slipped back up again so that he could see his best friend re-emerge, slippery with saliva and pre-cum, then disappear again into my bobbing head. Chad shook his head in thrilled disbelief as this supposedly inexperienced younger kid deep throated his magnificent tool.

Chad's dick was smooth and tasty, and it was a great exercise to work on. I kept his unit hot for fifteen or so minutes, pretty good for how steamed my client was. Pretty soon, though, he began groaning more loudly, and blowing through tense lips. "Oh, man, that's good...ohhh, yeah.... Oh...Ahhh....I'M CUMMIN' MAN, I GOTTA COME!"

I backed off for this first time and milked him manually. He shot a thin stream of pearly semen across his long abdomen, plopping himself in big dribbles on the chest and down the center of his gut. More spurts followed, one landing on his left tit, mostly sprinkling all over his rippling, muscled abs. Chad vocalized his pleasure throughout the ten-second orgasm, then subsided in a long sigh. Then he lay like a puddle of flesh himself, totally relaxed, as if unable to move a muscle, breathing deeply. I strolled over to the bar and grabbed a handful of Fritos. Using the chips, I scooped each glob of cum- dip off of Chad's belly and chest and popped it into my mouth. He watched, grinning, and then just lay back on the table, laughing with amazement at my uninhibited enjoyment of his sexual equipment. When I finished my snack, I fetched a paper towel and gently swabbed his stomach and chest while he recuperated.

In a moment, he raised his head. "Thanks, Woody. That was great. Well, I said we should get to know one another better." Gesturing to his naked form, "Can't know one another much better than this, huh buddy?"

Actually, I could think of some more intimate acts, like him sucking and even fucking me, but I just smiled. Chad sat up and stretched. I started to gather up my clothing, and he just sat naked on the table and watched as I put it on. He seemed to think I needed some comfort, and he was always a bigger talker than I, anyway. So he filled in the silence.

"Don't worry about this getting out, O. K. Woody? I have as much or more reason to keep it quiet than you. But man, I'm not kidding, you really came through on this. You can come and play pool at my house any time!"

Finally, dressed, I decided to set things straight before leaving. "Chad, I know you're straight, O. K., and that is fine with me. I like straight guys. I don't expect you to do anything for me that you don't want to. But we don't have to do the pool game thing. I AM gay. I'm not out at School except with guys I have sex with, but I like sucking dick, and you have a really nice one, and a body I like to look at. You don't have to understand it to enjoy it. Anytime, just let me know."

My house was not far away, so I let myself out and made it home not much late for my paper route and dinner. Chad did not seek me out publicly at school or anything the rest of the term, which wasn't long, but he didn't pretend not to know me, he would speak to me when we passed in the hall. The next Monday, though, there he was at my locker again near the end of the day.

"Wanna play today? No track!"

"Sure. See you at the car."

Now I was smiling along with Chad. I felt much stronger, much more in charge. I had something he wanted and valued, and that felt good. So Chad and I became suck buddies, or rather I became his cock-sucker, for the next four months until he went off to college. It wasn't degrading to me, though. Chad never put me down or called me names or ridiculed my services in any way. He always treated me with respect as an accomplished craftsman, so to speak. He even got kind of affectionate with me in his way.

I sucked Chad off on the pool table several times more, sometimes both of us sprawled on the top. I always got naked, too, just on principle, and often Chad would stroke and caress me as I sucked his rod. A number of times, he stroked me off by hand, watching in fascination as I shot my load on my stomach. He was generous with me in the use of his magnificent body: I could have free access to his entire skin surface from the neck down, but no kissing on the face. He would let me put a finger up his ass, in fact he had some super-abundant ejaculations that way, but he would not permit anything bigger. He didn't want to fuck me, saying, "Man, I get enough pussy not to need that." He had no problem with my eating his ass or sucking his toes, though, and I pretty much wore my lips and tongue out on him on Monday afternoons, and some other times, too, once school ended for the summer. After that first time, I always swallowed, and Chad liked that. His juice was creamy and slightly salty flavored.

We often used the big, overstuffed sofa for our sessions, and from time to time, we were draped over every inch of it. But I sucked him as he sat onvthe bar, as he lay on the rug, even out on the patio a time or two. A couple of times, he dropped his pants in the car, and I blew his horn there, once as we drove with the top down, and once parked on a farm lane outside of town. We became good friends and had an honest appreciation for one another.

Finally, in August, just before Chad was to go off to college, we had one last session. Knowing it was the end of the line, I gave him a very thorough going over, and really ate out his ass. After I was finished blowing him and cleaning all the cum off of his dick, Chad continued to pump my knob, which of course was a huge boner. Then, completely unexpectedly, he leaned over and wrapped his mouth around it and began to suck me. I was far too big for Chad, though he had a big mouth and could have learned to take it with practice. He could barely get half of it in without starting to gag. It was probably the worst blow-job I ever had. Still, I was so surprised and pleased at the gesture, and so turned on by seeing his handsome face wrapped around my dong, that I shot for him very quickly. I warned him, of course, and he pulled off and finished me manually.

"You know, Wood, I used to say you owed me one for getting you the Treasurer's job. But now I realize I owe you, too. You've taught me a lot.

"Like for example, I broke up with Robin this week."

I was stunned, and stared back blankly.

"She's good in the sack, and she looks good and all. But thanks to you, I realized that with her it's all just one thing. If I get bored with her now, what would it be like in five years? So I'm back to playing the field, looking forward to getting to college. They have a whole new cheerleading squad to work on there!"

We both laughed. I could imagine that Chad would have no trouble getting them to put out, either.

When we parted that day, he gave me a big, bearish hug. I only saw him occasionally after that, and never for sex. We met once, though, at a high school football game. He was home for the weekend, and he had a gorgeous-looking redhead on his arm. He gave me a knowing wink. While he and I were crowded around the concession stand to place our order, his whispered conspiratorially in my ear. "This one does it all, Wood. And thanks to you, I've been able to show her exactly what I like to have done, too. Not only that," he wiggled his tongue at me playfully, "I've picked up a few of your old tricks myself! Thanks, Woody."

So as so often has happened, the other guy got the lasting relationship, and I had to satisfy myself with the knowledge that I had helped pave the way for it. I was with my buddy Brad at that game. When Chad left with his girl, Brad looked at me and said, "Another one of your pupils, I take it."

I raised my eyebrows at him suggestively. Without a word, we took our cokes and hotdogs and left the stadium, headed for our favorite parking place on the crest of a hill, where I enjoyed two hot dogs, the one I had bought and also Brad's big wiener. Some people eat chocolate, I eat some people.

So that's how I got my nickname. It described me well then, and isn't too off the mark right this minute.

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