A gay story: A Tentse Blowjob
When I came out as being gay, at nineteen, my friends shook my hand and told me it was fine as long as I didn’t fancy them. We all laughed, especially me. Why do straight guys think gay guys automatically fancy them?
I stayed very quiet about my crossdressing though, and I didn’t have a boyfriend at the time or on the horizon. I had played around with a few guys I met online, kissing, stroking and sucking each other off, but I hadn’t been penetrated anally.
One weekend, a group of us went to a music festival. We camped both nights and there were lots of jokes about not wanting to share a tent with me. I didn’t take it personally. A friend called Dean shrugged his shoulders and said he didn’t care.
I was a straight acting guy. I didn’t talk or act differently. I was still one of the boys. I drank beer and talked sports like the rest of them, why wouldn’t I? I didn’t joke about my sexuality, until everybody got used to me being gay.
While they commented on doing dirty things to the girls in the bars and clubs, I would jokingly point out the hot guys, asking what they thought of him. My friends would laugh and act disgusted. It was all good, lighthearted banter.
At the music festival, however, after getting drunk and stoned on the first night, I was lying inside my sleeping bag, beside Dean, who was also drunk and stoned. He started asking me questions about being gay.
He was curious to know how a man couldn’t be attracted to girls, tits and pussy. I spoke back to him quietly, informing him I was attracted to those things, just not in the same way. Realising I was close to divulging my crossdressing and sissy fantasies, I stopped.
“But how do you know you’re totally gay, if you’ve never put your cock inside a tight, wet pussy? It’s the best feeling ever,” Dean chuckled.
“How do you know you’re not bisexual, if you’ve never fucked a guy in the ass or had your cock sucked by another guy?” I chuckled back.
“Fair point, but that thought has never crossed my mind. It ain’t for me,” he said, his tone a little macho.
We laughed, turning the conversation to the festival. Dean was horny. He couldn’t stop talking about the scantly dressed girls we’d seen throughout the first day and night. I closed my eyes and drifted off, letting him talk us both to sleep.
I woke up sometime later to the sounds of rustling. I looked across quietly and made out the silhouette of somebody masturbating in the dark. Dean was flat on his back, staring up at the tent, either eyes open or closed. His sleeping bag was unzipped and he was stroking off.
Listening to his shallow breathing and then his frustration, I realised he was struggling to reach a climax. Drink and weed does that to a man. I smirked and continued to watch him. His frustration was driving him crazy whist humouring me.
“Urrr! For fucks sake!” he grumbled, letting go of his cock.
I risked getting punched in the face, beaten up and ostracised from my group of friends, when I discreetly reached out my hand and took hold of his shaft. It was rock hard and well-endowed, causing my smaller cock to grow inside my sleeping bag.
“Uh!” he flinched. “What the fuck?” His head flicked to look at me, but he didn’t stop my hand stroking up and down his length.
“Shhh. Close your eyes and pretend I’m someone else,” I whispered very quietly, making my voice almost feminine, as I unzipped my sleeping bag and leaned over his body.
“Wh… wh… where are going? What are you doing?” he panicked.
“I’m going to do good things,” I smirked, licking halfway up his shaft and onto the throbbing head.
“Ohh, fuck!” Dean’s breathing quickened. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll fucking kill you,” he threatened idly.
“What happens inside this tent, stays inside this tent,” I spoke quietly once more, getting comfortable over his lower body, stroking his cock and sucking on the gorgeous head.
“Ohh! Shit! That feels good!” Dean instinctively relaxed. I began to caress his balls, taking more of his cock inside my mouth.
I love sucking cock. I could do it all day and night long. I swirled my tongue around his leaking dome, determined to give him a better blowjob than any girl. I waited until my friend was completely under my spell before sucking a finger and teasing his puckered anus as I fondled his balls.
Dean put something over his face, drowning out his increased breathing and groans, or maybe he was hiding from the fact another male was sucking his cock and he loved it. I was loving it. Secretly sucking off one of my friends inside our tent, knowing I would soon be swallowing his cum.
“Oh my God! I can’t believe how good that feels,” he groaned under his face covering.
At the end of the day, a mouth is a mouth, and mine was a warm, wet, willing one, determined to satisfy his needs. The more I played around with his tight opening, the further Dean opened his legs and gasped.
Reading his arousal, I began to push my finger inside. He loved it, responding positively. I pressed a little firmer, stretching his anus while my head bobbed up and down, pleasuring his juicy cock.
As I slowly fingered his arse, pushing my finger deeper and deeper inside, Dean grabbed my head and began to buck his hips, sending thrusts of need to the back of my throat. His groans were urgent. I could taste his precum on my tongue. He was getting close.
My mouth squelched around his cock while his arse sucked on my finger, spasming around it. I expected it at any moment. His cum to flood my mouth. I stayed with him, getting ready to swallow my creamy reward. My own cock was throbbing, but my pleasure was not important.
“Oh! Yes! Fuck! Fuck! Yes! Here it comes!”
Dean suddenly pushed down on my head and thrust his cock right down my throat. My eyes bulged and I coughed, causing my finger to go right up his arse. Then his cum spewed into my mouth. I swallowed as fast as I could, still fingering his tight hole until his balls were empty.
“Fuck!” Dean panted. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he then spat in anger.
I slipped out of his orifice, off his spent cock and quivering body, and lied down, quietly. Was this the part where I got my head kicked in? I prepared myself, just in case, but Dean rolled over, clearly ashamed of himself. I slept with one eye open, ignoring my own lust.
The next day, he barely said a word to me unless he had to. We hid our distancing from our friends, enjoying the second day and last night of the music festival. Drunk and stoned, once more, I didn’t feel safe sharing a tent with him.
Until he came up to me and asked if I’d do it again. I told him to go to bed and close his eyes. Imagine the hottest girl he could, and maybe, just maybe, she’ll sneak into the tent and suck him off. I did the finger thing again too, but once the music festival was over, Dean avoided me like the plague.