The Drum Set

I put the car in park and exhale sharply through my mouth. This is it, it's finally happening after all of these months. Holy fuck!

Last July, you'd surreptitiously messaged me on Facebook asking about borrowing tables from work for your son's graduation party. I'd been so shocked and delighted to have you actually talking to me—I've had a crush on you since I first saw you 8 years ago—that I jumped at the opportunity to be of any help to you. I didn't know why at the time, but you gave me your phone number.

We started talking more frequently and I confided in you my frustrations in not knowing about tires and rims. You did your best to help me over the phone, but began asking me how big my rim was and I started to wonder if that wasn't a euphemism for something else perhaps, but no, of course, not, why would it be? After all, you're a sexy guy who always has a pretty woman in his bed. Why on Earth would you be hitting on me, a guy in his mid twenties who looks like a teenager?

In early August, you got a hold me of one night as I was leaving work late and confessed that you wanted to see a picture of my cock. It turns out that my suspicions had been correct all along, but how? I am nothing special, definitely not in the looks department.

We flirted back and forth all fall and through the winter. Every time you were free—when your girlfriend was at work—I was at work, too, and by the time I got out, you were already in bed. I resigned myself to fact that this whole scenario would be nothing more than a hypothetical affair that existed solely in our imaginations. You asked if I would be willing to include a woman in on our "fun," but I resisted. I want you to myself, not to share you with a woman; after all, where's the fun in that? I'm not into chicks.

In February, you married your girlfriend, the dried up old hag that resembles Leatherface almost to a T. Why? From everything you've told me, she doesn't take care of you sexually at all, and of all the women I've seen you with over the years, she's the ugliest.

Against my better judgment, I started texting you again, just to see if you would even talk to me anymore. You didn't reply to the first few, but on my third attempt, you asked who I was. Ouch. Once I told you, you explained that you'd had to do an emergency delete to ensure that you didn't get caught, and that you were still interested in "hanging out." You said that she still wasn't taking care of your dick, and that it was getting old. You promised to get a hold me of.

You wanted to meet up on a Wednesday before I had to go to work, but, as fate would have it, you got held up at your side job and it didn't happen. It's whatever; I stopped caring about it that much a long time ago.

Earlier today, I texted you to see how the side job had gone and you invited me to come over and suck the soul out of your… I'd gotten a text from a coworker asking me to come in early because things were getting ridiculous at work, but I couldn't say no to you, especially since you're a matter of blocks from my work.

I hurriedly showered and shaved before heading out. You told me let you know when I left the house and to park at your place and come on in.

Now, I stare at your front door, my hands shaking a little. I've been here before a few times, but not for you. Two years ago, I'd gotten very close with your oldest son and had developed a deep crush on him, I'd driven him home after work on the nights we closed together, and had come over to let him practice driving my car so that he could get his license. He and I haven't spoken since he moved at the end of that summer, but it's still surreal to be back in these familiar surroundings.

I try to swallow, but my mouth is extremely dry; my nerves are getting the better of me. Great, now I'm going to suck at this and you're going to be disappointed in my oral skills. All of the books I've read about how to give good head have recommended keeping your mouth moist; well, I'm not going to ask you for water or anything, so I guess we'll just hope that when you pull out your eight inch cock that the mere sight will make my mouth water in anticipation.

I grab my phone from my cup holder and quickly text you to let you know that I'm here. I know you told me to just come in, but that feels weird to me. Almost instantaneously, you respond, "Come on in."

I take a deep breath and before I can stop myself, I open the car door, get out, and hurry up the short drive to your front door. I turn the knob and step in.

Immediately, I see you just to the right of me, wearing a blue t shirt and gym shorts. Your brown hair is short and messy; apparently you haven't put too much effort into your appearance for this rendezvous, and I feel dumb for making sure I look hot in my tight black skinny jeans and red leather jacket. I didn't style my hair because I have to wear a hat at work, and on the off chance that you're one of those dudes that likes to bury your hands in my hair while I'm sucking you off, I don't want to waste a good hair day.

"How's it going?" you ask, regarding me with your blue eyes.

"Fine, you?" I croak. My heart is beating pretty quickly in my chest and I try to keep the frog out of my throat. I want to appear calm and collected, not like a nervous wreck.

"Good. Here." You reach past me to lock the door. "Just in case."

"I understand." We definitely don't want the wife to come home unexpectedly and walk in on me blowing the shit out of you.

"So…." you drawl.

"I'm a little bit nervous," I confess, kicking my shoes off and arranging them neatly on the brown rug at my feet. I remove my fancy sunglasses and lay them on the glass table to my right.

"Don't be." You start walking. "Do you want to see my drum set?"

"Sure." I honestly couldn't give two fucks less about your drum set, but the first time hooking up with anyone is awkward, so I'll go along with it, anything to retain some normalcy.

You turn abruptly to the left and start up a short flight of stairs. "Am I following you?" I ask lamely.

"Yeah, if you want," you reply over your shoulder.

I admire your bubble butt in those tight gym shorts as I follow you up the stairs. We come out into an attic bedroom and I can't help but wonder if this was your son's room, the room that I wanted to get into so badly not too long ago.

You stop before a three-piece drum set. I know nothing about music and the only instruments that I can even remotely play are the kazoo and the recorder. I don't want to be rude, so I feign interest, commenting on how awesome a set it looks to be.

"Yeah, it is," you say, your hands nervously ringing the waistband of your shorts. There's a few moments of awkward silence and then you ask, "So, do you want to me just whip it out or what?"

"You can do whatever you want," I assure you, moving closer.

You take a deep breath and start to work the shorts down a bit before finally just letting them drop to the floor. My eyes immediately alight upon your cock. Even flaccid, it's hot as fuck and I can't wait to get my hands and mouth on it.

"Do you want to get it hard?" I ask softly as I rub your shoulders. I'm afraid that if I just start going at it, you'll chicken out.

"You can just start sucking it if you want."

"Is there anything else you'd like to me to do first, or do during?" I'm thinking maybe suck on your balls or nipples, nothing too crazy. I'm definitely not into eating ass or anything too extreme.

"No. Just suck it."

You're about an inch taller than I am, so if I get down my knees, my mouth should line up just about perfectly with your groin. "I've never done it this way," I confess.

"What do you mean?"

"I've always done it lying down." You look around the room at the carpeted floor, as if considering maybe lying down. "We can try it standing up,"

Before I can second guess myself, I drop to my knees, grab your cock with my right hand and slide it into my mouth. I sheath my teeth with my lips and create suction, moving down your shaft once or twice. I hear you moan, and quickly stop. "Good so far?" I ask.

"Yeah," you gasp, your eyes heavy lidded. You brandish a tube of lube—where it came from I have no idea. "Here, want some lube?"

I want to ask you what for, but then I remember that you once mentioned an interest in having your prostate massaged. I don't have much sexual experience at all, let alone in oral sex or prostate massages, but I guess today is the day that I will find out if I'm able to adapt or not.

You squirt a generous glob of lube onto my right hand and I quickly rub it in before grabbing your penis with my left hand and sliding it back into my mouth. I resume sucking it and am delighted as I feel it expand inside my mouth as you moan once more. I glance up and see that your head is thrown back, exposing your Adam's apple. Your hand reaches up and grabs the ceiling, as if to steady yourself. Am I that good or have you just been celibate for too long? Could it be both?

"Put a finger in there," you gasp. I lower my eyes back down to eye level and note that you have a freckle just above the base of your penis. I don't know why, but I find it endearing. I slide my right hand back and over your plump cheeks, working between them and trying to find your anus. Obviously, I know where your anus is located, but you're standing up with your legs fairly close together, so there's no real point of ingress.

"Do you need more lube?" you ask as I prod around, trying to get even a little bit in.

I pull your cock out of my mouth. "Sure," I say, and hold my hand up. You lather more lube on. "Oh, by the way, you can touch my head if you want, just please don't push my head down. Also, I will let you cum in my mouth just let me know beforehand so I can be prepared."

"Okay."

I resume my quest to find a way inside of your hole. I use some force and you gasp, "Gently, gently."

"Sorry. I'm having a hard time getting it in. Your legs are too close together."

You hoist your right leg up and balance it on the railing in response. I'm not sure that it will do the trick, but it's worth a shot. I slide you back into my mouth and bob my head as I finger around your hole. It's a little more open now, but not enough. Maybe he'll just drop it, I think, but for some reason you are adamant that my finger is going in your ass.

"More lube?"

"Actually, I'm just having a really hard time getting in. Could you, maybe, lie down for me and we can try it that way?"

"Sure." You lower your leg and pad across the room, lying down on your back. I move between your spread legs and am relieved when I find that I can actually feel your hole now. I rub along it a few times as I take you deep into my throat. I continue to suck on you, glancing up through my lashes to see you looking down at me, your mouth open in ecstasy, moaning. Maybe I'm better at this than I'd ever thought. I mean, I have only done it four other times and they were all very complimentary of my skills, but I guess I'd never believed them.

I suck on you for a few minutes, finding my rhythm and basking in your cries of pleasure. I'm not submissive, but there is something so sexy about making a guy cum; about knowing that your pleasure is because of me.

"Stick it in," you moan, arching your back. I comply, and am shocked when my finger slides easily into your anus. It's tight and warm and I instinctively crook my index finger, brushing your prostate. "Can you feel my prostate?"

"Mhm," I say around your cock. Eight inches sure is a mouthful, but considering that I don't have a big mouth, I'm making it work surprisingly easily.

Your moans get more intense as I stimulate you on both ends. "Oh, fuck, I've never had both at the same time!" Neither have I, but apparently it feels amazing. I can't help but notice that your cock starts to deflate, but I fight this by sucking harder, faster, and deeper. No way am I allowing this to end without a hot load in my mouth.

With each bob of my head, I gain more confidence. Why did I ever think that I couldn't do this? Giving head is literally easy as fuck! I've had a few experiences where I've been on the receiving end of some head that felt like the guy wasn't doing anything down there, but based on your panting and sighing, I may just have a natural talent for this. Finally something that I'm innately good at!

This continues for a few minutes: me sucking and rubbing, and you moaning. Although I do not have an erection, I can feel a wet spot in the front of my blue Andrew Christian boxers as precum oozes out of my cock. This is literally the hottest thing that I have ever done!

"You can just focus on sucking me now, so I can get hard again," you say, and I remove my finger. You stand up and cross back to your original position. Normally, I'd be more than a little irritated that you're expecting to me to be at your beck and call, but I'm so aroused by this right now, that I just want to get you off so I can try to convince you to start on me.

I'm on my knees once more, thrusting vertically to take you as deeply as I can. I've never been good at deepthroating, because my gag reflex is so sensitive that I almost throw up while brushing my tongue, but somehow, today, it's as if my body wants this as badly as I do.

"Take it all," you groan and I do, swallowing you to the hilt. I don't gag at all. I feel your strong hands on my head, rubbing my hair a little. I could definitely get used to this.

"You can just jerk me off the rest of the way if you want," you say, your voice soft.

I take you out of my mouth and start stroking your impressive cock a little. To be honest, I'd been looking forward to letting you be the first and only guy to ever cum in my mouth. My bossy personality takes over and I say, "Well, I want you to cum in my mouth."

Not waiting for you to agree, I take you in mouth one last time and give it my all.

I see that once again, your hand is on the ceiling tile and your head is as far as it can possibly go. If this happens again, I might just have to start asking you for money.

"I'm gonna cum," you moan, and I suck even harder. You start to thrust your hips to match my movement and after a few seconds, I hear you cry out as my mouth is filled with your salty cum. I automatically swallow it and keep going, hoping to make you convulse.

"That's good," you say after several seconds.

I let your wet, dripping cock flop out of my mouth and wipe my lips, which by now are oily from the lube and glistening with remnants of your hot load.

"Do you want to touch me?" I ask, still on my knees. I have enough time still that I can have a quick orgasm. After all, it's been over a year since I've had an orgasm that wasn't self-induced.

"That's something we'll have to work up, if that's okay," you say, tugging your shorts back on and up.

"Yeah." It's really not okay, but I don't want to force you into something you're not ready for, and to be perfectly honest, I really should be getting to work.

We hurry back down the stairs and you point to the left. "The kitchen is over there, there's soap to wash your hands. I'd better put this back, so she doesn't expect anything." You're referring to the lube, and I agree.

I go into your kitchen and squirt some Dawn dish soap onto my hands, lathering up before running it under warm water. I'm generally a pretty germophobic guy, so I can't believe that I willingly fingered your asshole and let you cum in mouth.

Back in the living room we reconvene. "Do you want to chill for a few minutes and talk so it's a little less awkward?" I inquire. Maybe I'm overthinking this way too much, but I don't just want this to be a wham, bam, thank you ma'am situation.

"Sure, that's fine." You sit on the sofa, which is in an L shape, and I cross around the coffee table, coming to sit close to you.

"So, be honest, how was it?" I ask. I shouldn't be so needy, but I didn't get very many compliments growing up, so I'm in constant search of validation. I know it's pathetic and annoying, but I'm working on it.

"It was good. Very good."

"Good."

You start messing with your phone. "Who texted me?" you mumble to yourself, before saying, "Oh, it was her."

"Your wife texting you while I was sucking your dick?" God, I really am a dirty whore.

"No, before, but it's okay, it's not a big deal."

"Okay."

You sigh. "Yeah, I had to delete quite a few people from my phone just to be safe. I don't trust her not to go through it." So, I'm not the only person you're talking to outside of your marriage, I see. Go figure. "She's going out of her fucking mind. She's going through menopause and she's really depressed. It's a family thing, I guess."

"The depression?"

"Yeah, her mom and sister have the same thing. Her sister said she's just crying and inconsolable. She's being really bitchy to me, too, threatening to end it."

"The marriage?" I wonder if she suspects that something is up.

"Yeah."

I want to point out that they haven't even been married a month yet, but keep my mouth shut. After all, it's not my business.

"I'm not taking her shit, though. I used to, like I used to work hard to keep it together, but I'm not going to be begging her to stay."

"Yeah." So, apparently on top of mistress/whore, I'm also taking on the role of friend/therapist. "Women are crazy," I say, to tell you what you want to hear. "I don't know how you guys put up with them."

"I don't know."

Your fluffy cat jumps on the sofa beside me and I notice that its nose looks like a bloody scab. Poor thing, I think as I pet it. The brown cat yowls like it's mad, but rubs on me, encouraging me to pet it more. I hear you laugh and look up to see you watching us with a slight smile on your lips. "She likes you," you say.

"She probably smells my cats on me."

Abruptly, you stand up. "Well, I've got to go to the bathroom so…"

"And I need to get to work." I hurry to the door and start tugging my shoes on.

"We'll have to get together again and do that sometime."

"Yeah." I doubt that we will, but it's cool either way. I had fun.

You walk around me and peer out the window beside the door. "Does Jared know your car?"

Jared is the guy a few houses down that I'd lost my virginity to three and half years ago. We barely speak anymore. "No," I assure him. "He hasn't seen me since I still had my old car. We don't really talk anyway."

"Okay. If he sees you leave, I know he'll run on over here and want to know why you were here."

"Just tell him I need new tires for my car and you were helping me find the right ones," I suggest.

"Or, that you came over to look at my drum set."

I want to point out that that story sounds absolutely ludicrous, but I don't. Instead, I say, "If you want, but I really do need new tires soon and I'm more likely to come to you for help with that."

I open the door and put my sunglasses on against the fresh onslaught of sunlight. It's a beautiful spring day and the sun is high and bright in the sky.

"I'll talk to you later," I hear you say from behind me.

"Sure," I reply without looking back.

I go down the steps and casually walk back to my car. I don't look back to see if you're watching me, nor do I look around to see if anyone has noticed me strutting out. I don't care, because the truth of the matter is that I don't regret what I've just done. While the circumstances surrounding this whole endeavor are less than ideal, it happened and I feel like a new man. Now, I know that I am good at oral sex and next time I'm with a guy that I do actually like and who likes me back, I won't have to be nervous that I'll make it weird by being nervous; I can suck his soul out of his body like the boss I am.

Grinning, I turn the key in the ignition and pull away.