A gay story: No Ordinary Beach Week This is the story about the most fateful week of my life. I am writing this story as a catharsis in some ways. I feel a need to express these feelings. I still wrestle with thoughts of whether this experience was good or bad for me in the long-term. The answer sometimes depends on the day.
I know there is not much sex as people may like but all of these thoughts came pouring out as I wrote. This was truly a life changing experience and writing about it helps me.
Everyone in this story is 18 years of age.
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BEACH WEEK
In some ways it is laughable to remember what I was thinking at the time. I was 18 years of age and despite my lack of experience, I thought I knew everything about myself and the world. It is good to be young and dumb. I now realize how much I had to learn but never expected to find out so quickly.
One of the traditions in our area after graduating high school is to spend a week at the beach with your classmates. Beach Week was a time honored rite of passage into adulthood, or at least that is what everyone thought even though real pressures and responsibilities were still years away for most of us.
Unfortunately, my group of friends were not the most socially gifted. We mostly stuck with ourselves and did not get invited to many parties. I wanted to go to Beach Week but most in my group were indifferent. The rest of us just did not have enough people to make renting a beach house work. This once in a lifetime opportunity slipped away. We convinced ourselves that Beach Week was not that big of a deal and that we would have just as much fun celebrating graduation at home.
My plans changed, however, a few weeks ahead of graduation when I unexpectedly heard from my neighbor, Patrick. While living on the same street we had known each other since childhood but, while still friendly, we had grown apart in high school. Let’s just say Patrick “matured” a bit quicker than me.
Patrick was athletic and his six-foot frame comfortable carried a solid 190 pounds. He was on the lacrosse team and spent plenty of the time at the gym. I had to admit it paid off. His broad shoulders gave him the perfect “V look” that all the girls loved. Despite his Irish heritage there was some natural color to his complexion. His complexion matched his dark, wavy hair. He was generally clean cut but quickly got a dark, stubble beard if he did not shave.
On the other hand, I had not developed physically. I was a more modest 5’6″ with a pale complexion with smooth skin. I barely needed to shave. I weighed only about 140 pounds. While I was not overweight, I did not have much muscle mass but was more toned than anything. My small stature always made gym class torture for me. I assumed, or maybe hoped, I was a late bloomer.
Patrick and I moved in different social circles in high school. I am somewhat surprised, but excited, when Patrick invites me to stay at his house for Beach Week. He had an Uncle with a place on the beach that he was allowing Patrick to use for the week. With the late timing of the invitation, I could not help but think his parents made him invite me. I was nervous because I was not sure how I would fit in at the house. I was not really friendly with anyone other than Patrick and I doubt Patrick and I would be friendly at all at this point if we did not know each other from our younger days. Despite my concerns, I accept the invitation. It seems too good to pass up.
My parents seem just as excited as me that I was going to Beach Week. In hindsight, I think they felt I needed the experience and it would be good for me to be with a more popular group. Maybe I would gain some confidence.
My mother in particular was gushing over Patrick for inviting me. She is constantly telling me how lucky I was that Patrick included me. She thought Patrick was so mature and such a good friend. I found myself joining her in singing the praises of Patrick almost every day. All of this talk about Patrick was unwittingly making my insecurities stronger. I could not help but think she wished I was more like him.
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The time leading up to Beach Week was exhausting. I had final exams, my 18th birthday, followed by graduation, and then a family party to celebrate. Packing for Beach Week gave me the burst of energy I needed. I am still a bit nervous but also excited to have a beach house without parental supervision for the first time. Dreams of grandeur for the week filled my head as I finish packing Friday night. I go to bed early to get some rest before what I was sure would be a long week. Despite my best efforts, my nervousness about the week kept my mind racing and I do not sleep very well.
Since I am awake anyway, I decide to get on the road early. I know the house will be open because Patrick left earlier in the week to get things ready. As I pull up he in his bathing suit and hosing down the driveway. He does not hear my car with his earbuds in. I see he already has a nicer tan than I can ever get. I cannot help but notice he had more muscles than I remember. While maybe not a six pack, his abs were definitely tight. I also notice he has developed a coating of dark hair on his chest and abs which gives him a look of maturity and authority way beyond me. He definitely exudes the aura of the man of the house as he cleans the driveway. It is hard to believe he is only 38 days older than me.
I am the first to arrive and Patrick looks surprised to see me so early when I get out of my car at the curb. I am relieved when he greets me warmly with his “bro hug”. God he is strong I think to myself. I can only imagine what he thinks of me.
Patrick helps me with my bags and gives me a tour of the house which is even better than I expected. The first floor has a large living area with a big screen television. There is an open kitchen with marble tops and latest appliances. Outside in the front there is a wrap-around porch. There is a back deck with a gas grill and plenty of seating.
The guest bedrooms are on the second floor. Patrick shows me my room. It is the smallest one with only one bed. I am in a way happy to have my own space and not have to worry about being in a room with someone I do not know that well. I will have my own place to get away from everyone if I need a break.
The rest of the group files in throughout the day. They were definitely more like Patrick than me but seem nice. I had seen them around school but never interacted with them much.
Everyone else quickly heads to the beach without unpacking but I stay back to get organized. I cannot help myself that way. I like to have everything in its place. I also do not want to spend too much time in the sun as I have the tendency to burn easily.
I change into my swimsuit and tee shirt, apply plenty of sunscreen, and head to the beach after I am done unpacking. Of course I kept my shirt on at the beach. I do not want to call attention to my body more than necessary. Patrick on the other hand almost never had a shirt on either at the beach or the house. He was obviously proud of his body and without his shirt on you could not help but notice him.
Patrick made sure I met everyone, including people from other houses, and went out of his way to make sure they knew we knew each other since we were kids. His introduction really seems to help break the ice and I am grateful that Patrick did that for me. It is fun getting to know the others. Everyone is friendly to me. In some way, I think they were going out of their way to include me for Patrick.
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The guys invite some girls at the beach to come over for a party that night to kick things off. The guys are all excited as they get ready including a debate over which girl is the hottest. This type of social life is all new to me and I feel out of my element.
The guys start drinking some beer with the music playing loudly waiting for the girls to arrive. Quite honestly, I have only had a few beers in my life and I did not particularly like the strong taste. I choke one down try to fit in but I notice it takes me much longer to finish a beer than the others.
One of the guys comes over to me with a cup full of a red liquid. “Try this and let me know what you think” he tells me. I take a small sip and am surprised when it tastes so good. I take another sip. “This is so good. What is it?” He smiles triumphantly when he hears me. “It is my special fruit punch that I make for the girls. There are pitchers in fridge.” He says walking away telling the others that the fruit punch is ready! He gets cheers.
The girls arrive and everyone is having a good time. I decide to drink the fruit punch thinking it would become obvious that I was having trouble drinking the beer. My nerves were getting the better of me being around the group of girls. I find myself taking sips of the fruit punch to make myself look busy while I stay on the outskirts of the group.
I am not sure when but things started getting foggy for me. The fruit punch definitely had something in it. The next thing I know I am waking up in my bed with a dry mouth and a headache. I realize the sun is up. Looking for my phone I see it is already 11:00 a.m. I am usually an early riser.
Dragging myself from bed I get dressed and head downstairs. Everyone is awake as I come down and I feel their looks as I come into the room on shaky legs. Finally, I hear “It lives!” and everyone laughs. I then hear Patrick say “How are you feeling?” with a combination of a laugh and concern. “Oh ummmmm OK I guess” I lie. “What happened?”
They spend the next hour reliving my exploits from the night before. I had obviously become tipsy from the fruit punch. The girls had put on some old dance music. This was the kind of music that my mother loved and played in the car and house since I was a kid. I knew all of the words. Eventually the girls got me out singing and dancing with them. They showed me the videos. The grand finale was dancing to YMCA with me in the center of the girls spelling out the letters with my arms and everyone clapping. Apparently Patrick broke it up after that one and helped me to bed.
I was so embarrassed in particular because I had no recollection of doing any of it. I will say everyone seemed to think it was fun and did not laugh at me but with me for the most part. In particular, the girls were reassuring. We were just having fun they told me.
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Our house being the nicest, it quickly became the center of the social circle. It was very exciting for me to feel so much a part of the “cool” crowd. Word spread about my dancing the first night. People seemed to think it was fun. Everyone made sure my glass was full of fruit punch at gatherings at our house. After they thought I had enough to get me out of the shell, the dance music would start and I would be out there again. In some ways I felt I was the house mascot for dancing when they wanted but everyone is having fun.
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I would go down to the beach with the guys but leave when the afternoon sun started getting too hot being careful not to burn. While it was nice to be in the middle of all the fun, two things quickly became clear. Our house was constantly a mess and my roommates were not the neatest people. As I mentioned, I like to have everything in its place. Perhaps not quite OCD but I do get out of whack when things are messy.
I am enjoying being part of a group like this for the first time and do not want to make a scene about the house being messy. Instead, I use the time with the house to myself in the afternoon to tidy up. I clean, do the dishes, run the remote vacuum and get the trash and recycling out.
Only Patrick seems to notice that what I am doing. It may be because he knew he was going to have to clean up at the end of the week anyway. He would give me a “Good job Joe” every once in a while looking over the place. I really do not like when people call me anything but Joseph but I did not say anything to Patrick other than “Thank you.”
I even found myself washing the towels left around the house to keep things neat. The washer and dryer are on the third floor. Patrick sees me doing the wash one day and asks if I would mind doing his clothes. He catches me off guard and I tell him that it would not be a problem. Again, I am thankful that he invited me to stay for the week. He gives me his laundry before going to the beach.
I wash and fold Patrick’s clothes with some of my own. I decide to his clothes back in his bedroom so that they will be out of the way. His bed was a mess which I hate. I make my own every morning. I make his bed too and leave his folded clothes on top. This became a daily routine. Patrick leaves clothes for me at the washing machine and I return them clean and folded on his freshly made bed waiting for him when he gets back.
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Things in the house calm down as the week goes on. Everyone is tired from the late nights and you can see people moving a little slower. I am, in particular, feeling tired. I have never partied this much combined in my entire life. I am not feeling particularly steady after a few days.
My week, and even my life, begins to change on Wednesday morning. A few us were waking up watching television with some idle chat including stories about the prior night. Patrick comes in later and sits at in the corner of the sofa in just his gym shorts as usual. He starts telling his own tales from the night before. I was not at the same party and was about to ask a question about a girl I had a little crush on. I go silent when I look over to Patrick. Directly in my line of vision is the head of his cock and part of his shaft peeking out of his gym shorts. His cock is resting flaccid on his muscular thigh. I do not think he knew it was showing but I cannot help but look. The pink head highlighted the olive complexion of his shaft. Even in its current state, his cock is certainly thicker and longer than mine. It reminds me of a serpent waiting for anything to get close and then attack. The sight is quite honestly intimidating. I realize I may be staring and I leave the room shaken.
As much as I try to occupy myself, it seems I cannot stop thinking about what I saw that morning. The vision pops back into my mind without notice and seemingly more frequently. I have to admit that Patrick has an impressive and, dare I think, good looking cock.
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I am sitting by myself on the front porch later that afternoon. I feel out of sorts between what I saw that morning, the hot sun and, of course Patrick. On the beach I was unable to help myself from watching Patrick from behind my sunglasses when I had the chance. He has an amazing presence about him. He moves gracefully but at the same time powerfully. You can see why he excelled at sports. I also find myself taking peeks at his crotch to see if I can confirm the image burned into my mind. My memory is correct.
After checking in on social media, I stare out at the ocean. The sounds and movement have a calming effect. I notice a piece of drift wood. For some reason, the sight resonates with me. I watch as the wood as it bobs and moves with the waves and current of the powerful ocean. The wood is helpless with nature in complete control.
My tranquil thoughts are broken when Patrick unexpectedly comes out with a beer for each of us. I really do not want a beer, or any drink, but I accept it from him. He sits on the porch railing directly in front of my chair. After some small talk, Patrick smiles and says “Believe or not I am getting a little tired of all of this partying with the guys. I really wish Natalie was here.” Natalie was his girlfriend and, not surprisingly, a cheerleader and one of the prettiest girls at her private school. “I am sure you miss her” I say trying to be supportive.
“Yeah” he says looking away with his mind clearly lost in some other thought which I assume is about Natalie. It seems his chest and arms swell with pride with whatever he is thinking. Even his chest hair seems to stand up giving him an even more masculine presence. Thankfully I am still wearing my sunglasses. I cannot help but look over his body again as he was lost in his own thoughts. The outline of his cock seems to grow in his gym shorts.
“How about you? Are you seeing anyone?” Patrick says jolting me from my daze. I am always reluctant to talk about my minimal experiences. “Well ummm I have been out with one girl a couple of times but it is nothing serious like you and Natalie.” Patrick responds with a chuckle before announcing “I need another beer. How about you?” He gets up to leave as I decline the offer with my beer still almost full. “I still have a lot to teach you” he says and then patting me on the top of my head as he walks away leaving me even more flustered.
Trying to gather myself I look back out at the ocean. The drift wood is gone. What happened? How could things change that quickly? Nature is so powerful.
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On Thursday, most of the guys spent less time at the beach and gather on the back deck in the afternoon. The vibe is mellow with some social drinking and the music is not as loud. I did not go to the beach to avoid Patrick but I am still feeling out of sorts with everything going through my head.
I went in to get something to drink and realize that having alcohol would not be a good idea. I grab a bottle of lemonade and join a couple of others in the living room watching television.
Patrick comes down after a shower and decides to join our group cracking a beer and sporting just his gym shorts as usual. He quickly grabs the remote, changes the television channel to his sports channel, and takes over the discussion. I find myself getting even more quiet as Patrick again is the center of attention. His physical and mental presence is overwhelming to me at this point. I am afraid to even look his way.
Getting up for his second beer Patrick asks me “You finally want one?” on the way by and playfully adds “Wimp” to the laughs of others after I decline. Patrick again has me feeling a step behind and embarrassed. I hope he is just having fun. I blush slightly and smile weakly as he moves gracefully past me to the kitchen.
Patrick returns and, after handing out beers to the other guys, he plops down in the corner of the sofa just to the right of my chair. Taking a sip of his beer he sighs “Ahhhhh this tastes good” before leaning back and putting his strong leg over the arm. I am feeling like a bit of an outsider and slowly drift out of the conversation. Barely listening, I just smile every once in a while without adding much.
Patrick, on the other hand, is again quickly taking over the conversation. I look toward him when he starts with another of his stories. His loose gym shorts are again opened a bit on the leg closest to me. As I now realize is customary, he is not wearing underwear. I can see his cock again sitting on his leg as he talks. I quickly look away flustered and afraid that I will stare. I was the only one who could see because of the angle of his body toward me. Can this be another coincidence?
I try to concentrate on the conversation but find myself looking back every so often. I cannot help myself. It was like I am being told to look over. I should have just left but I am mesmerized and watch as his cock moves slightly and even seems to grow. Patrick’s cock is even more impressive and better looking than I remembered.
Patrick unexpectedly turns his head suddenly to say something to me. When my eyes reach his, the look on his face makes it clear that he knows where I was looking. I actually feel dizzy. I awkwardly answer Patrick’s question and leave quickly while cursing myself for staring. I rush to the bathroom to splash water on my face.
I go to my bedroom to gather myself. Layind down I stare at the ceiling trying to think of good things and not be overwhelmed. Despite my best efforts, the image of his cock stays in my head and I am unable to concentrate on anything else.
Rolling over with my back to the door, I try to sleep and put these thoughts behind me. I am not exactly sure how much time passes but I hear the bedroom door open. There are no words but I can sense eyes on me. I am so nervous and try to act like I am asleep. A shake of the bed but I stay still. A second shake and I do the same but start to panic. A third harder shake and I decide that I have to do something.
I roll over acting like I was waking up. “I know you were not asleep” Patrick says standing over me. “I thought you might like a better look” and he then slides off his gym shorts. My heart is racing and it seems to take forever for his shorts to come off. It was like he is giving me time to tell him to stop but I cannot speak. After stepping out of his shorts, Patrick stands over me completely naked. I cannot help but look at his crotch. His cock is semi-hard but still big. “You like that?” I hear him but I still cannot say a word. His cock sways slightly and then I see it twitch. “It’s ok I understand” he says and then grabs my wrist and brings my hand to his cock. He is so warm and thick. “There you go” he reassures me as I instinctively stroke it gently to gauge its size. I feel his cock growing in my hand.
“I love blowjobs” his words startle me and look up to him. He has a confident grin. I look back to his gorgeous cock. “I know you want to taste it. Give it a kiss.” His tone is calm and measured. My head is spinning. “Let me help you” he says leaning forward and bringing his cock to my lips. I cannot resist and I kiss his spongy head gently. “I do have a nice cock don’t I?” He finally breaks me. I look up and gasp “Yes” not knowing what else to say because it is obviously true.
Patrick laughs at me “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He jumps onto the bed with his back to the headboard and I hear “I said I love blowjobs.” These words hit me as more of a command rather than a statement. He moves toward me spreading his strong legs wide forcing me between them. I am so nervous and unsure as I look up to him. “Kiss it” and I do. “Lick it” and I lift his cock and lick the warm shaft. “You slut. How does it taste?” I look up to him and admit “It tastes good.” “I know” he says again with that confident smile. “Now suck it.” I hesitate but his strong hand pulls my face down and my mouth opens taking a cock into my mouth for the first time with a whimper.
“Keep looking up” he tells me and my green eyes are held by the stare of his dark eyes. “Swirl your tongue” he orders and I moan as my tongue moves over his velvety head. My heart swells when he tells me “I like that.” He looks relaxed but yet confident and in control. I can only imagine what I look like between his legs looking up to him with his thick cock in my mouth.
He continues to give me instructions. Patrick is teaching me how to suck cock. I get lost in it. He has me lick his meaty balls but reminds me to keep looking up to him. I literally make out with his balls. By now he has his hands locked behind his head. His biceps flex and look so powerful. Patrick continues to calmly tell me what to do. There is a complete power transfer. I am doing everything he says and I am happy when he tells me he likes something. I am overcome with a need to please him. His words, taste and scent are more intoxicating than the fruit punch. I cannot believe the sounds coming from my mouth as I follow his commands.
I suck on his cock for I do not know how long. Patrick has control and stamina with his cock like he does with everything else. With his direction, I settle into a rhythm of sucking. Each sign of approval from Patrick makes me feel good and I hear myself whimpering over his cock.
Finally, I see the expression on his face change. His cock stiffens in my mouth. His precum leaking more freely. His chest heaves out and he growls “Oh yessssssssss sluttttttt” before his cock twitches and then erupts in my mouth. His strong hand holds my head while his cock floods my mouth with his warm, thick cum. I am surprised that the taste is not bad. I swallow as much as I can but he cums so much.
His hand releases my head when he finally stops cumming. I gasp for air when his cock falls from my mouth. I lick the cum from my fingers that has leaked down his shaft from my mouth. For some reason I want to taste it all. God he cums so much. I am still breathing heavy as I sit back and realize Patrick has been watching me lick up the rest of his cum. He gives me a knowing smile and says “I needed that” before getting up, putting on his gym shorts and going out the door.
Just like that he is gone leaving me to wallow in so many emotions. I lay down feeling mentally and physically exhausted. I never imagined this would be my sexual encounter during Beach Week. Why did I do this for him? I almost feel like I was supposed to do it but that can’t be true. Can it? His taste and scent are still with me as I try to process all that just happened.
A panic suddenly comes over me. Patrick could be downstairs telling everyone. I imagine him giving them details of his latest blowjob with me being the one pleasuring him this time. I envision their disbelief soon replaced by laughter as they realize it is true. A few actual loud laughs and hoots from the guys downstairs do nothing to ease my fears. I am not sure what to do but I want to crawl under a rock so that they cannot find me.
Knowing I cannot hide in this room forever, I gather my little remaining strength. I wash my face and brush my teeth looking at myself in the mirror. I am not sure who I really am at this moment. I take a deep breath before nervously walking down the steps to the living area. I notice Patrick staring at me as I come down. Is he nervous that I will say something? It sure does not appear that way. He is sitting casually with a triumphant smile. His body seems to be glowing. For the first time I get that knowing look from a man whose cock you have sucked. I feel myself blushing and looking away from him.
I am a bundle of nerves and go straight to the kitchen for something to eat and drink. Other than the look from Patrick, I was thankful that nothing seems out of the ordinary. Seeing me a housemate says “There you are! Ready for some fruit punch???”. I must have looked awful earlier because he seems genuinely concerned. “You look better” he tells me and I try to act like nothing happened by saying “Thanks, I just laid down for a bit.” I tremble when from behind me a deep voice adds “Well then you should do that more often.” I turn to see Patrick standing there with that confident smile. I am not sure what to say or do but just blurt out “Yes, I guess so” for some reason. I feel like I am ready to crumble right to the floor. Thank God that the two of them left the kitchen to rejoin the rest of the group.
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Although I am definitely not in a festive mood, I am convinced, or almost forced, to go to a party that night. I was needed to “even things up” between the number of guys and girls. I am completely out of sorts at the party. I feel really awkward talking to people still thinking that somehow everyone knew or could tell I had sucked Patrick’s cock. For some reason, I was especially uncomfortable with the girls thinking they were easily able to tell what I had done. Almost like they could pick up Patrick’s scent on me.
I see that Patrick is his normal self. He is the center of attention and nobody would think anything out of the ordinary had happened earlier. I realize that perhaps this may not be out of the ordinary for Patrick. He seems so relaxed.
I go home early trying to avoid saying anything or making a fool of myself. Unlike Patrick, I am a mess.
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I am the first to get up on Friday morning. I was so mentally exhausted that I fell asleep right away when I got into bed the night before. I am not even sure what time everyone got in but it must have been late because they sleep later than normal. This is fine with me because I am still battling my fears that everyone knows what happened. The less I see others, including Patrick, the better. I try to keep myself sane by straightening up the place. We are leaving tomorrow so it has to be done anyway.
People start straggling down late in the morning. I have coffee on and even went out to get some doughnuts and bagels for everyone. I am overcompensating for my fears about what they know and think about me. They seem to enjoy their breakfast. I am beyond relieved when nothing seems to be different with them.
Patrick is the last to come down. I am very nervous about seeing him but he is perfectly fine. I am pleased that he acts like everything is normal but in another way I am disappointed. I am not sure what I expect but I must admit it stings a bit that he does not give even a subtle acknowledgement of yesterday. It seems like he has already forgotten. It was all I could think about.
I avoid the beach that day. I already spent enough time in the sun and wanted to avoid being around Patrick as much as possible. I am leaving tomorrow and maybe I can put this behind me and things will get back to normal.
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That night everyone is meeting at a bar. Nobody wants to mess their house up on the last night and have to clean in the morning. I am especially happy that everyone is going out because I spent the day away from the beach cleaning up again.
I beg off from going to the bar saying I was not feeling well which is not a complete lie. After some pressure, I promise to come over if I feel better. While I am happy everyone wants me there on the last night of Beach Week, I think it best for me to stay away.
We are sitting in the living room watching television as they wait to leave. Everyone is ready except for Patrick. After losing patience, one guy yells up the stairs to ask Patrick if he is ready to go. Patrick comes down fresh out of the shower with a towel around his waist and lets them know “I took a nap. I will have to meet you guys there.” With the usual groans and comments that he is always late, the others quickly file out of the house eager to start their night.
A fresh panic comes over me as they leave me alone with Patrick. I look around the room for a way to exit gracefully but Patrick is standing in front of the steps leading upstairs. The walls feel like they are closing in around me. I try not to look at Patrick and keep my eyes on the television but not processing anything on the screen.
With a cough to get my attention after he is sure everyone is gone, Patrick just drops his towel. He stands proudly right there in the living room wearing nothing but that confident smile. He knows he looks good and I cannot help but admire the view. His strong chest with the light hair is so masculine. The trail of hair over his tight abs leads my eyes from his belly button down to his cock. I stand in a half-hearted attempt to flee as he moves toward me slowly. His cock sways hypnotically as he walks.
Patrick towers in front of me not saying a word. His sexual energy radiates from his body. I am overwhelmed again and my legs go weak. I sink to my knees. “There you go” he says as I reach for his cock which is so warm and thick in my hand. “Look up” I hear and my eyes go up. Patrick looks so powerful looking down on me. “Isn’t that a nice cock?” he asks me without expression. “Yes” is all I can muster still holding it. “Yes what?” he asks somewhat annoyed. “Yes you have a nice cock” I say quickly. He smiles and says “Kiss it” and I kiss his spongy head gently with a whimper.
“You have been thinking about my cock all day” he says not with a question but a statement of fact. I blush as I hear his words but kiss his cock again. “Well?” His question has me blurting it all out “Yes Patrick, I have been thinking about your cock. I do not know what is wrong with me.”
“Suck my balls” is his response to my admission to him but of course my mouth goes to his meaty balls. He reminds me to keep looking up to him which I do. “There is nothing wrong with you” he says talking to me while my mouth and tongue work his balls. “You are just like everyone else who has gotten a taste of this cock. You NEED more.” I whimper at his words which ring true. “How do my balls taste?” I release one his balls from my mouth gasping for air and saying “So good.” His body fresh from his shower and he has a sexy, musky scent. He oozes sexual power.
“Do you want to suck it?” the question brings me back to the moment. I can only nod yes. “Well don’t you think you should ask me if you can?” He is just toying with me now but I am helpless to defend myself. “Patrick, may I please suck your cock?” He smiles saying “Well since you asked so nicely” and puts his cock to my lips. I kiss the head again looking up to him. I open my mouth as he slides in and my lips wrap around his cock. He lets out a small grunt of triumph as my tongue swirls over his cock. For some reason, his grunt makes me happy.
He quickly starts to again teach me what he likes. With my eyes up to him, I take him deeper. He has me gently cradle his balls as I suck. He calls me a slut and tells me to suck harder. Lewd sounds are escaping my mouth as I follow each of his commands. I am literally drooling over his cock. He occasionally pulls his cock from my mouth so I can catch my breath and tell him how much I love sucking hm cock.
He has amazing stamina. I seem to be on my knees forever. Finally, he gets more urgent and takes control. Grabbing my head, he begins to fuck my mouth. His cock is so hard now. He holds my head down as he growls and then his cock twitches in my mouth before shooting ropes of cum. It is easier for me to swallow when he is standing and I am on my knees. There is just so much cum and some leaks to the floor from my mouth. He keeps his cock in my mouth and I suck on it for all of his sweet cum. Looking up to him I cannot help but reach up to feel his abs and chest as I nurse on his cock.
Patrick finally pulls his cock from my mouth saying “Oh man I love blowjobs. I needed that one.” Catching my breath, I gasp “Thank you” for some reason and instantly regret saying it. “Clean this up and then get changed” he orders me. Still on my knees I look up to him surprised when he explains “I hate walking into bars by myself so get changed.” He walks to the steps and picks up his towel and heads upstairs. I cannot help but watch him. I grab some towels to clean up the mess. I see one large drop of his cum which I pick up with my finger and put into my mouth. It seemed wrong to waste it. I am glad that he did not see me do that.
I run upstairs to get dressed. I wash my face and brush my hair to pull myself together. “Aren’t you ready?” I soon hear from Patrick downstairs. Rushing to change into my shorts I realize my underwear is wet. I must have been leaking precum while sucking Patrick. “Let’s go” I hear from him and I leave them on not wanting to make Patrick wait.
As we walk over Patrick is again like nothing unusual has happened. In a million years, I never thought I would be walking into a bar with Patrick and having the taste of his cock in my mouth and his cum in my stomach. But here I am. The others are surprised to see me. Patrick tells them that I am feeling better now. I again burn with embarrassment. Does everyone know?
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The next day I again wake up early and finish packing. I know it is not the best manners but I feel like I have to get out of here before everyone comes down. I decide I will send Patrick a thank you note later when I have calmed down. I double check my room and head downstairs carefully with my bags not wanting to wake anyone. I am startled to see Patrick coming from the kitchen with a bottle of water. “Ohhhhhh Patrick, I did not know you were up. I am sorry for running out but I just need to get home.” I say trying to explain me leaving so early. “It’s cool” he says to me still half asleep. He looks so good even in this state. I summon my courage saying “I am glad I saw you though. Thank you so much for letting me come here this week. I had a great time.” My words seem to remind him and gives me that damned smile again with “I know you did. I am glad we both came.” The double meaning had me blushing a final time for the week as he heads back up to bed. Again, I could not help but watch him before leaving as a different person than when I arrived.
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Beach Week was a rite of passage in more ways than one. However, what happened at Beach Week would not stay at Beach Week for me. Patrick and I lived on the same street and were going to the same college in the fall. As much as I tried, he would not let me forget.
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Thank you for reading. I had more time with Patrick but we no longer see each other. I still think and even dream about him. I can tell more of the story if there is interest.