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Josie’s Graduation Gift
By Andy McAllister
Copyright 2012 by Andy McAllister
mailto:panda.andy.mcallister@gmail.com
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Published by Crescent Suns eBooks on Smashwords
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Josie’s Graduation Gift
Chapter One
“Oh, God, Josie, that’s fantastic. Oh yeah, just keep that up Jojo, uhh, oh, man, suck me, baby, yes!” Ron, was really enjoying himself. Why wouldn’t he? I was kneeling with my head between his legs and his cock in my mouth and for the past six minutes had been doing everything possible to make this the best blow job my boyfriend had ever had. He always said I gave the best BJs he’d ever felt. I never asked how many other boys had given him beejes. I didn’t want to know. I guess I was just happy to know mine were the best. Or did he just say that to any boy he’d ever dated who gave him a blow job? It was hard to know with teenage boys. They were prone to saying anything that would get them laid.
“Omigod, Jojo, here it comes…” His mouth opened, but nothing came out of it. Ron was like that. Regardless of whether I was giving him a BJ or he was fucking my ass, when it came time for him to ejaculate his mouth opened, his eyes squeezed shut – hard – I know – I had watched him do it enough times – and he started making a little squealing sound, like maybe air was leaking out of a hole that had sprung somewhere in his throat. He made that sound at that time, too. My head continued bobbing back-and-forth on his erection, the semen shooting out of his cock and down my throat. I swallowed every bit of it as it shot into my mouth, just like I always did. I’ve learned since I started this practice that some boys don’t swallow – hell, lots of boys I know don’t even give blow jobs, but I figure, what the hell, if I want a boy to suck my cock, then I have to give him back the same, right? And if I expect him to slurp up my juice when he sucks me down, then I should swallow his jism, right?
Ron wasn’t one of those boys who face-fucked too hard. My boyfriend before him had done that. Once I got my lips wrapped about his stiffy he’d start thrusting his hips like he was fucking a pussy. I didn’t mind. Made it easier for me, actually. It meant I didn’t have to do all the work in getting him off, except sometimes he got too carried away and once he almost broke my nose. Ron didn’t do that. He made me do almost all the work and I sometimes had to work a lot to get him to cum. This time wasn’t that hard. Six minutes is actually pretty good for him. There’s been times he’s lasted longer than half-an-hour before shooting his wad down my throat or inside my ass, with a condom on of course. Inside my ass I didn’t mind him taking longer, since that just meant I got more enjoyment out of it, too. But when I sucked him off I was glad when he came quick and annoyed when he lasted too long. I figured he did it deliberately, just to make me work harder.
“Oh man, Jojo that was awesome.” His breathing was hard, as it always was after making out. Ron sweated like a stuck pig, not that I know what a stuck pig sweats like, but that’s the expression I’m used to, so I use it. He sweats hard and he pants hard after fucking. Just how he is. I don’t mind. I pant, too, just not the same way he does.
He leaned back against the hood of his car, his pants still down around his ankles and his limp dick hanging down between his legs. I stood up and pulled a few Kleenex out of the small pouch I had attached to my belt – sort of a “man purse” I guess you could say - and wiped my lips. Then I used the same tissues to wipe his dick. He shuddered, the same way he always did when I cleaned him off. His pecker responded just a little when I touched it, but it never grew hard again – not right away. It needed time to regenerate, I guess. Me, I could go again after about a minute of down time. But I’m horny that way. So I’m told.
Ron had already slurped my shaft that night. My rule had always been if he wants a beej he has to swallow my sausage first or no deal. I know from experience that once he’s spent – he’s spent. No more energy in him left for even licking and sucking on my dick. Uh-uh. This bitch don’t like that shit no way, no time, honey. Suck on Old Barney and then you get your little sausage sucked. I’m firm about that rule.
Once Ron was finished catching his breath he pulled his pants up and we climbed back in his car. Both of us were dressed real nice, him in a deep blue tuxedo with a black shirt and tie that matched his jacket and pants – me in a powder blue tux that had a light lime-green shirt with ruffles at the neck and cuffs and no tie, but I did wear a cumberbund. Yes, I am definitely one of those boys who is more feminine than masculine about my sexuality. If I had the chance I honestly think I might just get a sex change, but who can say unless the time came, right?
We had just come from our school prom. Both of us were seniors and about to graduate high school and tonight was our celebration party for that fact. Fortunately we attended a school that had a strict no tolerance policy for sexual discrimination and most – not all, of course, but most – of the kids we went to school with were cool about those of us who were gay, either male or female, so Ron and I were able to attend our prom together and be just as openly physical with our making out as any hetero couple there. We’d been at the prom most of the night and had a great time dancing, talking to our friends, eating, more dancing, drinking – yes, Ron was one of those who had smuggled in a pint of bourbon and we’d laced our drinks with it. Not the first time we’ve had alcohol and won’t be the last, even before we turn twenty-one.
After the prom we drove out here to the peak that overlooked the city and gave us a beautiful view of everything. I loved coming up here and seeing the light on the buildings, the red, yellow and green from the traffic lights and all the other types of lights there were spread out all over Denver. It was gorgeous and always gave me a thrill all the way down to the toe of my stockings, and yes, I do wear stockings, even under my pants, like now. I loved the feel of them and wore them every chance I got.
Naturally we only came out here so we could make out. Me first, then Ron. Rules are rules.
Ron drove me home, both of us chewing on peppermint gum to kill the taste both of the alcohol and the sex and keep our parents from knowing what we’d been up to, like they would care or even notice. My dad might. He cared a lot about me and what I did and what happened in my life, but my mom was seldom home and never cared about any of that. She was a business woman – high up the ladder of success – so was my dad, but he didn’t let it consume his life the way Mom did. Ron’s parents? They were both more like my mom, but not quite as bad, though the fact that they had recently gotten divorced said a lot about their own state of affairs.