Adventures of a Femboy Sissy Ch. 02

Chapter 2 All the Way

This was more than us just gripping each other hard in the moments before climax. I was personally doing something to him. For his pleasure. On purpose. By this point, I had stopped rubbing his balls, and had took my one hand and held it pressed down flat around the base of his cock, over the boxers, and was working him with my other hand just like all those pornstars had taught me. This was because the precum had begun to flow from his tip, and it was quickly all over the palm of my hand. Personally, I was delighted, and even relieved, and while I can't remember, I'm sure I was grinning like an idiot. I was excited. His precum was rather excessive, enough that I could get a real decent slickness going in stroking the last half of his cock, smearing it all around the tip and down the sides some. So much so, that when the movie behind me lapsed into silence, you could hear my hand, and this excited us both even more. There were questions that sprang to mind, but they could wait. They were going to wait, because we weren't stopping to ask them.

And I hadn't even come to the best part.

Thing was, I really needed some water! Delighted or not, my heart was pounding and I was still nervous, feeling a jolt of adrenaline every time I reminded myself of what I intended to do. My damn mouth was like the desert because of it, but where my mouth was like sandpaper, his cock wasn't. I took that as nothing but a good sign but still, I was mortified my mouth didn't have a hint of moisture in it to help me do this thing. That and more almost made me call the whole thing off, but the precum that was virtually coating him made up my mind. In a positive way. I discovered I was turned on by the realization that he was producing so much because of me, and not the movie. I wasn't just yanking him off at the supreme moment, I was giving him a handjob that had little to do with anything else. This was happening between us.

My real dilemma just then, was that he had his head back with his eyes closed. His arms were up on the back of the sofa and he was enjoying himself. This would be no way to make a move he virtually would not see coming, and I didn't feel like risking a fist to the face.

So finally I said this soft little"Hey." and when he raised his head up and looked at me, I lowered mine down. In his lap. I was sitting up more and half turned to him, with him reclining back like he was. In fact, I even scooted back to give myself more room, so everyone knows the motion I just made by lowering my head like that. When it happens, as it happens, in the moment it happens. All I heard was this little whispered "Oh, shit." before my lips found his tip for the first time. I don't know if his cock was shaking a little because my hands were, but to hide this fact, I hurriedly pushed the shape of him through my lips in one smooth motion and just like that, his cock was in my mouth.

He didn't stop me. He didn't pull away. He didn't punch me in the side of the face and send me sprawling over the coffee table. I think he froze up inside just as much as I did and the tension was immense as I awkwardly started bobbing my mouth up and down in these little stroking motions on his cock, trying to match the same way I had been doing it with my hand. There was a plethora of sensations and thoughts from this one simple act, helped out in no small part due to the generous amount of precum all over him, but I didn't stop. His precum, by the way, was like a super light, warm little olive oil in it's feel and consistency. Why did I bother to tell you that? Well, it's different when it's on your lips, versus your fingers.

I'll never forgot feeling that for the very first time.

Thankfully, though, his precum is what made it work. Can anyone ever really say that their mouth wasn't dry when giving their first blowjob? But because of his precum, it was a lot easier than I expected and my lips sailed up and down on his tip easily. When I realized how it was going, I relaxed about it a little, and when I did that, I started doing it better. When I started doing it better, the moisture came back to my mouth...and so I went deeper. He felt that too. I remember how he uncoiled after a moment and slumped back again with the deepest, hottest, most pleasant sigh I ever heard from a man.

Up until that point I was so nervous about this, that my own cock hung semi-hard between my legs like it had been shot with a tranquilizer, but when he sighed like that, I was amazed at how quickly I surged right up to full mast. That sigh told me everything I needed it to...wanted it to, and then I started enjoying what I was doing. Really enjoying it. I was no expert, sure, but my enthusiasm more than made up for that and I made it official for us both.

I was sucking his dick.

After this, I could say I had sucked a cock. That taboo little merit badge supposedly all hetero males want to pin on themselves. I gave my roommate a blowjob. Our dynamic and our waking reality with each other would be different from this moment on and maybe our friendship would survive it, but it was definitely going to be something else come the morning. What do I mean? Well, many things happen in the heat of the moment that we regret the next day, right? Regardless, things would never be the same once I lifted my head up off his lap.

I knew we'd at least talk about it. That's how we were, but if his reaction right then was anything to go by, all signs looked favorable. He was lifting upward a little with his lap now, crying out a bit, as if to push his dick further into my mouth. And he did. At that point, I wasn't just working the tip, but was full on making the motions of blowing him, breathing out through my nose and determined not to let him slip free.

He was squirming and gasping and fighting to hold still. And I told you he had a fine size. Plenty of him left over to enjoy, as I held the base of him steady with my fist, my other hand still holding down his shorts, and full on blowing him. I wasn't just taking it like a trooper. I was enjoying myself. I was just as thrilled as he was, with a vague recollection of how achingly hard and wet I felt. Near the end, and by now on my knees in front of him, I even let go of him with my hands and just used my mouth. Up and down I went, and he was crying out more each time. Later, he was to tell me the way I held him with just my lips and stroked him like that was lethal. The sight and feel of me with my mouth locked around the end of his dick, hands free, drove him on to new heights he didn't know he had. I guess there is no grater confirmation you're in someone's mouth than when you look down and see it like that. I confess, I don't remember doing so. I don't even remember getting on my knees. Not very well, anyway. I guess I was into it. I knew at some point I did what he had said, and I held his penis like that with just my mouth, I just don't remember where I put my hands.

Did I hold onto his thighs? The couch cushions? Did I hold my hands up like some kind of symbolic surrender gesture? I'll leave that up you, but I had enough presence of mind to grab his cock from my mouth when he cried out he was going to cum, and so experience the first time having another man spurt on me somewhere other than my hand.

There was this tear drop shaped plip! of white cream that shot from his tip and hit me in the throat. I raised my chin up, giving his wet, warm dick fast little strokes in my fist, and the other spurts that followed, of less intensity, went on my shirt, my arm, and then on his thigh, with finally just the rest of it warmly bubbling out of his tip and all over my fingers. The fact remains there was a lot more of it than I had come to know from him, and my mind probably filed this detail away as a good thing, too. It's not like I didn't know what to expect, he just came so much, crying out hard as he did so.

Now, for guys, there always has been, and always will be, that moment of slight disconnect right after orgasm. Some call it post-nut clarity, but it's really more about your body and brain dumping the hormones right along with your desire. That's just nature's way, and it's not very fair for a man's libido to flatline like that. Nature sure plays a mean trick, because such a thing can seem selfish when it happens. Callus, even. It takes rather exceptional ecstasy for someone to stay conscious of their desires right after orgasm, and it's even harder for men than it is for women. Blowing our load is not just a saying, but a very accurate metaphor. We do blow it. And then we need to recharge. So, without meaning to burst your bubble again, such a moment couldn't be more evident when it happens between two males, right?

There was no amazing follow up.

He just came. In fact, he came all over both of us. He stopped. I stopped. Were things about to get awkward as fuck now? I looked down at myself holding onto his cum covered cock, white trails of it rolling softly down my fingers like lotion.

To my surprise, and maybe even his own, there was no immediate revulsion or disgust over what had just happened, where lust turns to nuclear waste between one second and the next. No, we actually stayed right where we were, and there was no pulling away from each other with a rush of guilt or regret. After a few seconds, and coming back down to Earth, all I really did was gently set his softening cock back down on his boxers. It just laid there exhausted, hanging out of the fly, and in turn I looked at my hand, then my arm, turning them over to see the cum all over me. I remember doing that. It was cool to the touch on my heated skin. His precum however, was all over my lips, and I wish I could tell you I licked it up like a good little nympho. I don't think I did, but I was a little numb about what had just happened. I remember seeing his stomach muscles jump a little when I set his cock down, because he was still so sensitive to the touch, but that was about it. Funny how you remember the little details. Anyway, we just sat there and caught our breath in the moments after. I had been breathing as fast as he had been.

I remember draping my arm over his knee, the one with the cum all over it, and just kind of sitting there on my own knees, feeling this wow type of sensation. Did I regret it in the moments after? Why should I? Sucking a cock is rather simple, but also, due to the awareness of what you're doing, extremely erotic.

A cock is unlike anything else. It's stiff, not hard. It's firm and yet pliable, and it's extremely warm. It's true. Things feel warmer in your mouth than they do in your hand, and it surprised me how warm he actually was. And it will actually throb in your mouth if you hold your lips just so, because then you can feel his pulse that way. At times, it would seem to surge up and swell and go back down a little, like cresting. Like how you're pumping for oil and things are getting ready to blow. When that's about to happen, he stays hard. Full mast. Tight. And don't kid yourselves. You won't be taking very much of it into your mouth, rookie that you are, because the average person has a one hundred percent gag reflex. That being said, forget all that nonsense about trying it out on a hot dog or banana to see what it's like. Don't be stupid and try sucking on one of those, only to have it break off in your throat!

I don't know if this spoils the telling, me throwing this in here, but just try sliding your thumb lightly back over your tongue while using just your lips to hold onto it. Use a little olive oil if you want to, to make things slick. I'm not joking. And don't go too far! Anyhow, the real effect of a blowjob will show in your face, and how it can ache a little at the act of holding your jaw open just so. You do that to keep your teeth clear and you will trouble you faster than you may have expected. It may sound ridiculous, but you actually can achieve a seal around his penis that way, where the vacuum pressure of sucking him does kick in, and trust me, he will feel that.

He'll mostly be stroked by your lips that way, but they can lack surface area and the best blowjobs are either sucking him when he's extremely hard, or stroking him with your fist in tandem with your mouth. That's why some girls have lip injections. Don't laugh, it's true. And where the underside of his cock will mostly slide back and forth on your tongue, hitting that little G spot under his tip? That's why they get tongue studs. See? You can also end up a little tender at the roof of your mouth when it's all said and done, especially if you're doing it well enough that he starts thrusting.

Anyway, I did the best I could. I didn't do all that I just told you my first time out. But I was to learn.

So, we came back to our senses. He still lay back collapsed and spent, and together we just collected our wits and wound down. We recovered quickly to be honest, but it was in the manner of how we acted afterwards that there was a marked little change. Maybe not as drastic as I had imagined, but a change none the less. He just raised his head up and asked me if I was OK. He didn't cringe at seeing his cum on me. I, in turn, didn't cringe from his cum being on me, and to the surprise of us both, we immediately got the nervous giggles. He turned down the TV and turned up the lights, as I slipped back up onto the sofa and made to carefully get my shirt off. This got us chuckling again, about how I kept the cum away from my face while trying to get my head through the collar, but managing it all the same and just turning my shirt inside out to finish wiping off my arm. Then my neck. He had found a small towel from somewhere and was wiping himself off too, which led to a question that surprised me to no end.

"What about you?" he looked over at me, leaning back and tending to himself.

"Me?" I was still wiping off my neck, even though there was nothing more there. I was just making the motions, I suppose. I found a dry area of my shirt and wiped off my lips. He looked uncertain of himself when I looked over at him.

"I mean...I don't think you...you didn't get to..." he sat there looking uncertain.

"I didn't." I set the shirt aside, sort of appraising myself by looking down at the wet spots on the front of the sleep shorts I wore.

"Do you...want to?" his voice quavered a little.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" I looked up at him. "Like...do it back to me?"

"No." he said quickly. Too quickly. Both our voices were nervous and a little feathery now.

"I mean, I don't know." he seemed squeamish, tucking his dick away. "I'm not sure about...about what to do next."

After a moment, musing it over, I heard my own voice replying to him. "Look, it's OK. Really. I wanted it this way."

He grinned at me, looking sheepish.

"Are you sure?"

"You don't need to." I said. "I think I'm good."

I could see he was partially mistaking this for thinking there was something wrong. How could there be something wrong? Was he imagining there was something about what had just happened that I didn't like? I guess I was turning him down, after a fashion. After all, aren't guys always self conscious about their cocks and their performance? Why was I turning him down? He might have even gave it a shot, but I think anyone reading this knows that wouldn't have worked. Not then. His passion was spent. That whole post orgasm thing. Still, it was touching that he was at least willing to try and help me out, and I have no doubt he would have jerked me off if I had asked. Truthfully though, I wasn't feeling it. I didn't need to cum. And yet...I was almost feeling like I had?

Oh, don't get me wrong, I was thrilled at what we had done. I can feel the satisfaction and excitement even now. But there I sat feeling...already satisfied? What did that mean? I've talked to other guys about it over the years since. They sucked a dick for the first time because they wanted to. They wanted that rush. For themselves. That's mostly what they got out of it, and I get that. Just at that moment, I can honestly say it was reversed in me, though it was hard to identify at the time. Looking back on those guys who told me about their first time, I wonder just how much of them went in to pleasuring someone else instead of themselves, and therefore feel pleasure in that? How much of them enjoyed it, because they liked making the other guy feel good?

Without knowing it, this was a rather feminine thing of me to feel. That point was going to be very important for me in the days and weeks to come. Right then, though, I was pretty ignorant of myself and I was content to just lean back and indicate how I was obviously wet, with multiple spots on my shorts from where the material had shifted over the tip of my dick.

"Trust me, I'm good. That was wild." I sat back up. "You have nothing to worry about." He looked at my condition for a moment and smiled kind of sadly, before looking up at me.

"I wish I was horny enough to do something about that."

And that was that. That was about all the consideration he could muster, and it was more than I had a right to expect. Male orgasms, remember? Without really realizing it, I felt something of my own needs shift away from a typical male's sex drive. I had just stepped foot on a path that would lead me farther and farther away from what I considered blandly normal about myself. I didn't know it at the time, though, and later, when I did, I didn't really care. Perhaps sitting there I already knew what I wanted.

I just didn't know it yet.

...continued in Chapter 3."

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