Total Cock Worship Monday

Monday. Dry weekend. I’m horny as hell. I need cum. I need it bad. I call my assistant. I’m going to be late. Move meetings, etc. I start work earlier than most. By the time everyone else gets there, I’m way ahead. Today I need to feed.

I call a few fuck buddies. Either their phones are off or their asleep. I leave messages all over: “I want to suck you off.” I’m seriously bummed. I even think about heading into work.

Then I hear Mike’s motorcycle.

Mike is a hottie. I’ve known him since he was in college. Not sure how we met. He constantly asks me for advice. He’s somewhat straight and totally insecure. He has a small dick. Not quite five inches. Not too thick. We occasionally talk about it. His insecurity has cost him girlfriends. His small dick doesn’t bother them as much as it bothers him.

Mike sucks dick because it gets him close to big dicks. Dicks he wishes he had. He’s good at sucking. I can tell he enjoys it. I like guys like Mike. I know they’ll keep coming back. Guys that are just horn dogs will eventually decide to play it straight. One day, they just stop coming.


Pete was like that. Handsome. Great bod. Nice dick. Liked to fuck around. Loved having me blow him. I hadn’t seen him in a while when he walks up to me at Safeway. We chat for a second. Then he drops the bomb: he won’t be coming around anymore. Met a great girl, etc. She’s at the end of the aisle. I wave to her. She waves back.

I ask him if he’s in love. Pete says yes. I ask him if the sex is great. He nods. Then the big question: “Does she suck cock as well as I do?” He pauses before giving an unconvincing “Yeah… it’s different.”

I wish him well. He starts to turn away. I stop him. “You know what the difference is between her giving you head and me?” He shrugs. “She loves you… while I…” I step forward to make my point, “I worship your cock.” The truth stuns him: He will never get a mind-blowing blow job again. He stands there as I walk away. When I turn at the end of the aisle, his girlfriend is looking at him concerned, holding his face. She looks to me as if to say, “What the fuck did you say to him?”

The truth, baby. I told him the truth.

Mike is in HVAC. Starts in the late morning. He tells me he has plenty of time. I tell him I just want to blow him and send him on his way. He’ll go for that.

I do him in the entry. Against the door. I pull down his grungy work pants. I swallow his already hard dick.

Mike is compact. Maybe 5’7” and 165. Not much hair, Kinda cute. Full, pouty lips. Those lips are perfect for sucking cock. Today, he won’t need them. I run my hand up his chest as I lick his dick. I slobber all over it. I slurp. I gulp. His balls are small, too. I play with his fuzzy nuts. He moans softly.

I pump my face down onto his dick. He moans a little louder. I grab his hands. I put them on the back of my head. He doesn’t get my point. I pull off and look up. His eyes are closed. He’s got this beatific look on his face. I hate to pull him out of it. I go back to slurping on his cock.


After a few minutes I pull off again. I tell him to fuck my face. Mike gently pumps a few times. I pull off again. “Fuck. My. Face.” I start pumping down on his dick again. This time he gets it. He grips the hair on my head and begins to fuck my face. His movements are short. Quick. A longer dick would choke me, maybe even hurt me. I can easily breathe.

Mike starts whispering as he gets closer to nutting. He starts to talk a little louder… then louder. “Take it, take it, take it!” He gurgles when he cums. Not sure where that comes from. It can be disconcerting if you’re not used to it. Sometimes even when you are.

I swallow his spunk. There isn’t much there. Poor guy, small all over.

I remain on my knees as he catches his breath. I gently kiss the light fur his flat stomach. Small kisses thanking him for feeding me. He taps my shoulder. “Gotta go,” he says. Ah, straight-boy guilt. Fine. Go. You’ll be back.

He zips up. Says “thanks” for the hundredth time. I ask for a kiss. He gives me a quick peck. Ah, straight boys… I hug him and kiss his neck. He likes that. He gives me a longer kiss. Closed mouth. But decent.

He hops on his motorcycle and zooms away.

I go out to get the paper and I see Brian riding by on his bike. He looks good in bicycle shorts. Too good. He pulls over. Returning after a long early morning ride. He’s back for the weekend from football camp. “Good for the quads,” he smiles. His quads look amazing in red bicycle shorts. So does his giant package.

I ask him if he’s got time. He does. We go in.

The phone rings. It’s Rick. He’s driving by on his way to the gym. Will my offer still stand in an hour and a half? “Absolutely.” He asks about “the stud on the bike.” I tell him he won’t be there when he arrives. “Pity.”

I hang up. Brian is all over me. I tell him I just feel like blowing him today. He begs for more. I tell him I’m not in the mood. It’s a lie. I don’t feel like getting fucked by his massive dick today. Today I want to pray at the altar of cock.

Brian grabs me and hugs me tight. He smothers me with kisses. He stinks. The bike ride has left him smelling a bit ripe. I’m not sure when the last time he’s washed his riding kit, but it turns me on.


He takes off his shorts and jock. He heads to the living room. He drops in the big leather chair.

Brian is already hard. His dick is laying flat on his hairy belly. I kneel before him and pull it forward. Just before I put his giant schlong into my mouth, I look up at him. He looks so happy. My mission is to keep that expression on his face.

I take him into my mouth. From tiny Mike to huge Brian. Man, what an incredible difference. Sucking on his massive cock is instense. It fills every bit of my mouth. His giant, pulsating monster-cock is stretching my mouth and throat. There’s still a handful and a half left. My mouth is in serious salivation mode. I’m slurping all over this monster. My hands follow my mouth so his whole shaft is constantly surrounded.

My whole world is his huge cock. Nothing else matters. I am at home. I am at peace. I want only one thing: to worship that dick. To praise it to heaven above and to drink its essence. Finally, it gives forth.

Brian groans. “Bruiser” pumps out thick ropes of cum. I pull back to allow for my mouth to fill with his seed. It spills out from my lips. It runs down his shaft. It leaks onto his pubes and stomach. I wait until the flow stops before slurping up all the excess. Taking the last bit into my mouth, I gently kiss his muscled thigh. “Thank you,” I mutter.

“No,” Brian says, “Thank you.” I want to correct him and tell him I was thanking God for letting me suck on such a divine cock. Instead, I just smile. I don’t want it to end. I find myself giving his thick shaft small, loving kisses. I’m hoping he wants another go. An excited knock on the door breaks the spell.

I can’t help but think of the remarkable luck in timing I’m having: one guy cums, another one comes…

Shamus is a bartender at a local Irish Pub. He looks a lot older than his 28 years. But he’s got a body and a dick like few others. We hooked up a few months back in a clumsy, drunken episode. I’m ashamed I can’t remember much more than while we thought we were having a secret tryst in the supply closet, the door was open and people were taking pictures. I know this because every week I get email with a picture from some dude’s phone with the message: “Is that you”? I don’t remember fucking him. Pictures don’t lie. He thoroughly was enjoying it.


Brian is bookended by two small guys. Shamus is a wee bit smaller than Mike: 5’4” and maybe 140. He’s a thin bloke. He’s got ginger hair all over—lighter than Red. Owns an oddly curved member. Shamus also sports a dead sexy, thick Irish brogue.


Before I can even shut the door, Shamus is all over me. I remember him being a fantastic kisser. He’s keeping that memory alive. He says something. I can’t understand it. We work our way to the stairs. He sees Brian standing in the living room. Brian is fully dressed. Shamus is not. He’s dropped his pants. He is standing in my entry, naked and “pointing” at the dining room. Brian nods to Shamus. Gives me pat on the shoulder. A nod to Shamus’ member. He’s out the door.

Shamus asks if he’s interrupted. I think that’s what he says. The accent is thick. He talks fast. I shrug. I pull off his shirt. Sweet. I rub my hands all over his body. I feel every inch of his hairy torso. The fur makes him look thick and healthy, instead of just skinny. I set him on the stairs so I can work my way down to his cock when the doorbell rings.

I met Paul at a Party a few years back and we hook up every now and again. I didn’t remember calling him. In my attempt to get some action I called a lot of people. Paul sees the naked and very excited Shamus on my stairs.


“How many dudes did you call?” I lie and tell him three and Shamus was the first to show. He rolls his eyes. He asks where he should wait. I yank my leprechaun off the stairs and tell Paul to stay put. Paul and I have hooked up at enough at parties for him to know I’m worth the wait. So is he. He’s got a big unit.

“Should I take a number?” he asks while I drag Shamus into the living room. Shamus doesn’t say a word. This might be normal for him. Who knows? He’s reaching for my cock in my boxers but I tell him “no.” I tell him I just want to suck him off—he looks disappointed. Next time.

I sit him in the same chair that Brian was just in and almost laugh. Brian is 6’5” and filled the chair with his muscular frame. Poor Shamus looks lost in it. His cock, however, is a lot like Brian’s. I smile. I tell him we need to be quick, since Paul is waiting. “Who doesn’t love a quick gobbler?”

I assume that’s good.

I kneel before his shillelagh. I take it into my mouth. Probably as long as Brian’s. Not as thick. Much easier to take. Even with the bend. I rub my hands up his hairy torso. I drop my head deeper and deeper into Shamus’ lap, taking more of his cock into my mouth; my throat. With every inch into my mouth Shamus says something I can’t understand. I’m worried I’m going to laugh. Every time he speaks I try to figure out what he’s saying. It distracts me from the task at hand. All I can think of are clichés. I swear at one point he yelled “Top of the mornin’ to ya!” Not sure as it was garbled and his hands were on my ears.

Shamus worked the night before. He still smells of beer and cigarettes. He has a musk that is intoxicating. Not dirty. A bit of sweat that belongs to a hard working man. It’s all over his shaft. I’m determined to suck it off him.

I suck his balls for a while. I nibble on the two delicious, hairy globes. Then to his taint. More musky goodness. He lifts his legs. He offers up his hairy hole. My tongue dives in. I chew on his hole while stroking the long shaft.

He shouts “Mary, Mother of God!” Also, something that sounds like “may the road rise up to meet ya.” I feel his cock pulsate rhythmically in my hand. He cries out. I shove my tongue deeper into his hole. He clamps down on it. I can actually feel his cock get harder as he cums.

I pull my tongue from his ass. I take his shaft in my mouth. It is still throbbing. I catch the last shot of jizz from the glans. His furry chest and stomach are covered with cum. His cock bends naturally out of the way as I suck the spunk from the fur. Cleansed of his load, I give him a kiss.

He smiles. Says something rapid and unintelligible. I kiss him again. He nods to the entry way and my other guest.

I’d briefly forgotten about Paul. I give Shamus’ still pulsating shaft two or three more tender kisses before I get up and walk to the hall.

Paul is not alone.

Sitting on the stairs with him is Davis—another guy I’ve hooked up with at a Party. The look in Paul’s eyes is both damning and admiring. I smile and ask, “Who’s next?”

Davis stands up. He’s so excited for this he forgets Paul was there first. Ever the gentleman, Paul actually says that “the kid” should go first. Hot and generous. He deserves—and will get—a really great BJ…

Shamus is looking for his shorts—Paul points to them in the corner. Shamus nods, mumbles something and leaves. Then rushes back in and gives me a quick kiss, “Give us a call!” Just as quickly, he is back out the door.

I look at the two guys and smile. Paul points to his chin. I wipe Shamus’ seed from my chin. “Better get going, kid,” he deadpans, “before the next rush of immigrants.”

Davis is not so much young as he is immature—at least in the ways of gay sex. He’s Mormon, went to BYU, got married, became a lawyer and then realized he was gay. His family is BIG in the Church. He can’t come out. They did allow him to divorce and—as long as he’s discreet—he can pretty much do whatever he wants.

He is naïve on a lot of issues in regards to homosexuality. Innocence combined with a hot body makes him adorable. Thick blonde hair. Piercing blue-eyes. Davis is so clean-cut he practically squeaks. He stands before me in a full suit and tie. Paul, left his jacket in the car—why would he need it? Davis is always properly dressed.


Davis likes the idea that Paul is there watching. I remain in the hallway—Paul sitting up higher on the stairs, near the first landing. Davis is on the bottom step. Davis likes to be completely naked for any kind of sex. We once had sex in his truck. I’m there with my schlong hanging out of my pants and he’s buck naked.

I remove Davis’ jacket & tie and place them on the bench in the entry. He’ll be distracted the whole time if he thinks his clothes are getting wrinkled. We all have issues.

Paul snaps his fingers. He wants to move things along. He takes the remaining clothes and places them on the landing. Seconds later, Davis stands in his garments—the Mormon underwear. They are beyond unattractive. It only works on him because he’s so fucking cute. I pull the shirt portion off. Then come the underpants.

Davis stands before me naked. He looks so innocent—except for the perfect raging hard-on. His cock is beautiful—average by most counts. But big and thick enough to thoroughly enjoy. Not much hair to speak of, besides the untamed bush. He’s in great shape. I’m craving his perky nipples. He sits on the stairs. Leans back into Paul, who puts his hands on his shoulders and gives him a peck on the neck.

Davis likes to kiss. I give him a long slow kiss. His hands are all over me, exploring me, grabbing at my cock. I move down. I nibble on his neck. I push him back to Paul. Paul and I kiss. I know where this is going. So does Paul. I nibble on Davis’ chest, chewing and biting on his nipples. Moving from one to the other. They are hard and perky. He is definitely hard-wired into them. He makes the funny noises when I chew on them. I know there is enough deodorant in his pits to choke a horse. I move down.

I love his hairy bush. Very few men don’t trim even just a little. Davis does not trim at all. I really enjoy that about him. I take his cock deep so that my nose is buried in his pubes. Contrasting to Shamus, he smells clean—like Irish Spring!

I kneel before him. Rubbing his thighs. Playing with his balls and taint. Working up to his asshole takes a lot of time. I’ve fucked him twice. Both times it was wonderful, but exhausting on an emotional level. When he’s fucked me, he was wild, intense and non-stop. Davis can go and go and go—more aptly: cum and cum and cum.

His dick and balls are perfect. I get lost in the enjoyment of them. I treat them with such reverence, I forget myself. They are not enormous, but the shape, color, texture, and taste are amazing. If there is absolute perfection in this world, sucking on Davis’ dick is it.

I pull off to admire his cock. I hear some serious cock sucking. Davis is laying back on the stairs, while Paul is feeding his ample cock to Davis—by kneeling above him, and leaning forward while holding onto the handrail for support. Paul and I are practically face-to-face. We kiss.

I tell him I want his cum. “You’ll get it.” He closes his eyes. Davis is doing right by his cock.

I go back sucking on Davis’ balls for a short while. Perfect, hairy globes. I tease them with my tongue, I pull on them with my mouth. One, then the other… then both. With Davis, not only do I love his dick, but his balls as well. I’m furiously beating his thick rod.

Paul groans. He announces he’s going to blow. He tells Davis not to swallow. “Save it… share it…” and then he nuts. Still holding the handrails, he pumps into Davis’ mouth. It spills out. He pulls out and shoots a line of jizz straight down Davis’ torso. I lean in. I smell it. I lick it up.

Spent, Paul pushes himself back and rests near the first landing. Davis sits up and our mouths meet. We share Paul’s spunk. It’s delicious. As I’m snowballing Davis, I feel his cock tense and he throws his head back. I move down. I catch his heavy load. Davis shoots five or six thick shots right into my mouth. I swallow him hungrily. The little that drips down, I slurp up.

We sit on the stairs, panting. I’m exhausted. I haven’t nutted yet, but I’m spent. Paul zips up and zips out, almost without a word. Davis dresses and quietly leaves. Issues. Guilt. Whatever.

I decide I’d better shower. I head upstairs. The doorbell rings. Damn. I forgot about Rick. Usually, he’s at my backdoor. (No pun intended.) It’s not Rick. It’s Andrew.

Andrew is in love with me. Every time we fuck he tells me he loves me at least three times. I just say “I know.” It’s not that he’s not hot. I just don’t love him. Andrew is about my height with a nice bod. He’s cute, with a sweet dick and solid balls. He has a perfect, perfect ass. He loves to get fucked and takes it well.


Because he’s so available, there is no chase. No challenge. He offers himself fully. Completely. The sex is good. Everything else is boring. He’s incredibly jealous. We’ve never dated. Still he’s jealous of anyone else I fuck. Whatever.

He sees my hard-on right away. He assumes it’s for him. In a way, it is. We kiss. An excellent kisser. By far the best. Passionate and hard; soft and loving. It’s always great.

We continue to kiss. He’s naked almost instantly. We’re upstairs in a flash. He’s on the bed sucking my cock. I’ve held it all morning. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out. I know I’ll only have one nut today. I’m late for work. No going for seconds. I push him off. I dive for his dick. He tastes good. Not too clean. A little musky. I devour his dick like I haven’t sucked anything for days. He cums. I swallow. It’s delicious.

I start kissing my way up when I hear Rick downstairs. “Anybody home?” I look at Andrew. I tell him to wait. “I got a package arriving…” I think I’m clever with my double entendre…

Rick is in the kitchen. He’s sweaty from the gym. Damn. He’s gorgeous. Early 50’s, looks 30’s. Masculine. Sexy as fucking hell. We kiss. Not as good as Andrew, but he’s got my dick aching.


I yank off his shirt. I start licking those pits. They’re ripe. They’re delicious. I devour them. I work my way down his sparsely hairy chest to his shorts. I pull out his thick cock. I mention Andrew. I tell him we need to be quick. He wants to go up and join in. I tell him he needs to blow and go.

“Fine. Suck it.” I do as he commands.


I pull his foreskin back and suck on his thick rod. Cheesy. Delicious. I pull the foreskin forward and delve my tongue in. I roll it around the glans. He gasps. Rick likes. I play with the head until he is swaying. I take it all the way down and grab onto his muscled ass. He nuts in my throat.

Rick curses when he cums. It’s quiet. It’s nasty. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you. Fucking asshole. Fucking douchebag. Fuck you. Fuck…” I swallow. I love it.

I stand and give his cock one last loving tug as I head upstairs. Any other day I’d wear that bastard out. He stops me and gives me a kiss. He thanks me. I nod and run upstairs.

Andrew is on the bed. Waiting. Arms behind his head. He’s hard again. He tries to kiss me. I realize I have Rick’s scent all over me. Hell, even I can smell it. I turn him over and start eating his ass. I tongue him hard and deep. He is groaning loud enough I worry about neighbors hearing. I don’t stop.

He begs me to fuck him.

I open the nightstand to get the lube and condoms. He tells me he wants to bareback. “I want your seed in me.” I continue putting on the condom. He tells me he wants me to truly be inside him. He tells me he loves me.

“I know, baby.” I roll on the condom.

I put him on his back. Pillow under his ass. That perfect, tight hole staring at me. I start to put it in. He pushes back. “Take off the condom.” I push forward. He cries out. I tell him to relax. Again, he tells me he loves me… and wants my seed.


I put my hand on his chest. I lean forward. I kiss him gently. He relaxes. I’m in. I kiss him again. “Please…” he begs. I shake my head. I’m getting mad. Let me fuck you, I think. He whispers, “I haven’t been with anyone else…”

“I have.” He tenses. I let it out. “Andy, baby… I’ve blown six guys… today. One of them downstairs while you waited. When I kissed you a minute ago—that wasn’t your ass, on my lips. That was his.”

He’s stunned. He’s hurt. I see a tear. Do I stop?

No.

“Baby, I’m a fucking whore for dick. I worship it. I love sucking it. I love swallowing cum. Give me a dick—any dick—and I’ll drink his seed. You don’t know where I’ve been. The condom stays.”

He’s crushed. A tear drips from his eye. I lean in close. I push further in him. “You still love me?” He closes his eyes. Tears quietly pour out.

Game.

Set.

Match.

He opens his eyes as I thrust hard into him. I start to fuck him hard. All the while I’m looking in his eyes. He tries looking away. I move my head so he’s looking at me. “Huh, baby? Still love me?”

I’m a fucking asshole.

I’m pounding his hole hard. He keeps looking away. I keep moving to make eye contact. We’re shifting. His head is hanging over the side of the bed. He is groaning. Maybe he’s sobbing. I can’t tell. It’s loud. He’s matching my thrusts. It’s angry. He hates me. That makes me harder.

I lean forward. My mouth to his ear: “Of all the guys today… you’re the only one I’ve wanted to fuck.” He groans loader. He pulls me close. “Still love me, baby.”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” It’s Rick. He’s at the door watching us. Andrew tells me to stop. I just fuck harder. Rick walks over. He runs his hand up my leg, ass, back… I stop fucking.

Rick introduces himself. His thick cock is hanging inches from our faces. He asks Andrew to suck on it. Andrew looks away. “I bet RL will do it…”

I do. I’m going to hell. Andrew is pinned beneath me, still impaled on my shaft. I suck on Rick’s dick. I stop. I ask Andrew to suck on it. I give him a kiss… “Please… If you really love me…” He does. If you need me, I’ll be in the farthest reaches of hell.

Andrew’s head hanging over the bed makes it easy for Rick to fuck his face. I continue pounding his ass, while Rick punishes his beautiful face. After a short while in Andrew’s talented mouth, Rick pulls out and nuts all over Andrew and me.

Andrew loves to be cum on. Just as Rick blows, Andrew spews. It’s a small pool in the cum gutters that are his abs.

My cock is in serious overload. I can’t hold anymore. This is going to be intense. I want to nut inside Andrew’s tight hole. But I want to see this load even more. I know it will be magnificent.

I pull out. I yank off the condom and fling it across the room. Three hard pumps and I begin to spray thick ropes of spunk all over Andrew’s beautiful body. The first, sprays a continuous thick rope from his belly button to his forehead. The second rope, shoots past him and smacks Rick’s abs. The rest of the ropes land squarely on Andrew’s torso. I don’t think I have ever cum as much in a night full of heavy sex as I did in this one orgasm. The boy is drenched.

I’m shaking. I’m spent. I can’t speak. I lay on top of Andrew. The loads mix together between our two bodies. I feel it. I revel in our spunk. I roll him on top of me. We kiss.

“I love you,” he says softly.

I reply as always, “I know.” I quickly add, “You’re the best.”

“I know.”