Latin Lessons

I just started a new training class at work. A whole bunch of us are being drafted into a new department due to the "needs of the business." Most of the people aren't too happy about it, since it's a sales-type of department. We'll get our base pay, plus an incentive; not a commission, but an incentive. I've decided to have a positive attitude about it - it is, after all, the opportunity for more money. Why do one job and only get so much money per hour, when I can do another job, and make a little extra if I do it well. I understood why some people weren't happy about it, but I figured I'd make the best of it I could.

I like to get there early, because to me, on time is half an hour late. Plus, the room we're training in has sixteen computers for the twenty one of us. No good. I like to have my own computer, I'm very hands on like that. I had hoped but did not receive the opportunity to have the computer all to myself. No big deal. A guy who had protested being drafted came in twenty minutes late and the only available seat was next to me. I suppose he was continuing his protest, but whatever. I noticed that he smelled like vanilla...it was nice to have him nearby. His name was Alexandro, with the "x" sounding like an "h," but he told me to call him Alex.

The next day, the procedure was the same. Except by this time, enough people were either "sick" or got booted out of the class for being late too much, there were computers for everyone, which made it rather confusing but pleasing nonetheless when he sat next to me again, not at a computer of his own. I guess he wanted to get booted from the class, but couldn't risk the pay we were getting for the otherwise boring class.

During down time, we would chat about which departments we'd come from, but mostly about his...he wasn't very inquisitive, but I decided to ask lots of questions because he did all his work in spanish, so I was curious about how it differed from the work I'd been doing.

For the third day, I overslept. As I raced through my shower - I never leave my house without a shower - and down the road I chided myself for putting my alarm clock so close I could turn it off without even waking up. I vowed to move my alarm clock when I returned home. Arriving at our usual classroom, I found out we'd been moved to yet another, smaller room. I almost felt bad about going in so late (half an hour) until I saw Alex rounding the corner toward our new room. I was two seconds behind him getting there and I think we noticed the same thing at the same time: this room was even smaller, and there was one computer left with two chairs waiting for us. Since he was ahead of me, he got to the computer first and signed on. Today, I would only be able to watch.

I tried to pay extra attention, since I learn by doing, and Alex was the one doing, I had to write down each step in this new program so that I could refer to my notes later on. What I also started to notice, was the number of times Alex grabbed himself, or readjusted his crotch. How he adjusted anything I wasn't sure. He wore his jeans so lose and baggy, it would seem he had enough space for two of him to fit in there. Regardless, it was starting to turn me on, which in turn, required that I adjust myself. I was trying to do it in a less obvious manner, but since his manner was to just reach down and grab what was there, and mine was to squirm around, he was probably doing a better job than I.

Since our state has laws about required breaks and all, and since we were in class, we all took our breaks at the same time. Each day we got two fifteen minute breaks and a thirty minute lunch break. When our teacher let us go for our first fifteen, I headed as quickly as I could toward the third floor. There was a restroom there that was hardly used, and I liked my privacy, especially when I had raging hard ons.

The third floor restroom was very clean. Not to say that the rest weren't - my building had excellent janitorial staff - just to say that since it was so infrequently used, cleaning it was always well done. I had hoped while I had my cock out and was pissing so hard against the urinal that it was almost splashing back at me that when I heard the door open it was the janitorial staff. I was wrong. I noticed that the visitor didn't take the urinal two down from me, but the one right next to me. Doesn't this violate some sort of man-code?

"That class just seems to be getting more and more boring, doesn't it, buddy?"

It was Alex. It wasn't until then that I could smell his vanilla scent. "Yeah, I guess so."

"And it doesn't help when you're too hard to concentrate."

"Heh. I guess you noticed?"

"Noticed what? I'm talking about myself. Bitch girlfriend wouldn't put out last night."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that." I decided to not answer his question.

"Damn, look at this, pissed my brains out and Shorty's still hard as a rock." He turned toward me so I could see his "Shorty."

I thought I'd heard just about everything guys call their dicks, but "Shorty" wasn't one of them. But since he did invite a peek, I peeked and I was surprised to see that Shorty was no shorty. What he had sticking out of his fly was at least 7.5 inches and thick. I'm sure my eyes bulged out a little, and what progress I had made in deflating my own dick by ignoring any sexual thoughts was quickly dismantled. I could feel it growing back to full mast, which was pathetic compared to Alex's meat.

"You like it?"

"It's, um, it's impressive."

"Yeah. Years ago, I could get any chick I wanted and it didn't matter how old they were, they all felt tight. But I've been with my old lady for so long, man, once they give you a couple of kids, the sex just isn't the same. Can't ever get the same satisfaction." He was stroking his cock, keeping it hard while he talked.

I was still staring at his cock. "Oh." That was all I could muster. I still couldn't look away. And clearly he noticed.

"You want to touch it?"

"I shouldn't."

"Why? You got cooties? Go ahead, touch it." He took a few steps toward.

I reached out.

Big mistake. HUGE. God, it was so warm and I could feel it pulsing under my fingers. I had to try to wrap my whole hand around it. I was successful, but just barely. For some reason, I don't know why, he pulled his balls out of his shorts. They too were huge, and heavy. And then, I don't get this either, I started to run my hands up and down his length. I guess it was sheer amazement. Couldn't have been curiosity. I'd seen plenty of dicks before. Maybe not his size, but I used to think once you've seen one, you've seen them all. That had to be a lie.

"Suck my dick for me."

I wish I'd made him repeat himself. Instead, I was on his cock so fast that the word "eager" didn't describe it. I had my right hand holding his balls in my palm while my thumb and forefinger wrapped around his base, and my left hand jerking the half of his dick I couldn't fit in my mouth. His head alone almost filled my mouth, but I've had years of practice. But years of practice didn't prepare me for something so long AND so thick.

"Oh yeah," he said. "Damn that feels good. You like that Shorty?"

"Mmhmm," I said, not bothering to stop what I was doing, what I was tasting.

"Cock-hungry little faggot, aren't you?"

Cock-hungry might be a great way to describe me. But faggot - I hate that word. So I stopped. I got up, forced my own dick back into my pants and headed out.

"No, wait, please. I really need this," he said. He grabbed my wrist.

"I'm nobody's faggot," I said.

"I know, man, I'm sorry."

I paused. Looked at his cock.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

I'm a sucker for a weak guy, and I couldn't help but see the pleading in his eyes, or the drop of precum on the tip of his dick. God I wanted to taste it. So back down on my knees I went. This time, I didn't just dive down onto his dick, but I licked the head, the glistening precum was some sort of tangy and I knew I'd miss it later on down the line.

Once the drop of precum was gone, I held his dick up and licked all the way down to the base, then paid extra special attention to his balls. I was having a great time, but apparently I was the only one when he grabbed my hair and pulled me off.

"Suck it." He had his hand wrapped around the base and had his dick pointing right at me. Somehow it was bigger, longer, harder than it was before and barely fit in my mouth.

I gagged a couple of times as he pushed me down as far as I could go. I reached up to make him take his hand off my head because I really didn't want to be gagging anymore, and I knew, that if i had time, I could swallow his cock. He wouldn't let me make him take his hands off me, so I settled for running my hands up and down his torso under his oversize polo shirt. His chest was moderately hairy, but not disgustingly so. His chest hair wasn't thick or long, and it was well placed, stretching out across his upper chest and then just a little bit further down the center forming a sort of T-shape. The rest of him, his stomach and sides were completely hairless. From what I could tell, this was a naturally occuring type of thing. I didn't feel any stubble from shaving or manscaping, and he certainly wasn't the type to do it.

What has always interested me about all the men I've been "intimate" with is the varying sentsitivity of their nipples. His were especially sensitive. I discovered this as my left hand was holding the base of his dick, my tongue was flicking its way up and down the sides, with extra flicking and licking at the apex, the massive, growing-by-the-minute cockhead, and my right hand was reaching up. Though I rarely do it, I had the urge to pinch his left nipple, and pull a little. I don't get into the hardcore pain stuff, so I know my tug wasn't painful to him. But when his cock jumped and immediately began to leak the precum a little faster (mm, tasty), I knew that he was just super sensitive.

With this information at my fingertips, I knew exactly what to do. I continued sucking his dick, but this time took both hands off of him so that only the hardness of his cock and my mouth controlled his pleasure. Then I reached up, placing my left hand on his right hip. It doesn't bring much but mental pleasure to the guy, making them think that I need something to hold on to, when the fact is, I'm just trying to get their load faster. Then my right hand continued massaging his chest and stomach, occasionally stopping by his nipples.

I could feel his cockhead clogging my throat and knew I had to pull my mouth off of his dick. I was really proud of myself, having gotten my nose into his boxer shorts, but if I didn't pull off, I would throw up, and that is no way to behave in the middle of a blowjob. So I pulled off, much to his initial disappointment, but I immediately made up for it by wrapping my tongue as much as I could around the head of his cock and focusing on the first three or four inches of his meat. Goddamn it was huge.

"Oh fuck," he said.

"You close?" I asked. Not that I was truly concerned, because I would have sucked his cock all day if I could, but I knew that we needed to get back to class.

"Open your fucking mouth or it'll go all over your face."

I opened as wide as I could, but the first jet of jizz still crossed my face. Thank god I had my eyes closed. The taste was thicker than his precum, nice and salty. I kept my mouth open and threw out my tongue where the next shots landed and then he pulled me back onto his cock still shooting his load which went straight back to my throat with so much force that they almost initiated my gag reflex. "Yeah swallow that cum. Oh fuck yeah." He held my head to his crotch until his cock went limp. "Clean me off."

I didn't wait a moment to start licking him all over again paying special attention to his head. But before I could get him hard again he pulled me off, stuffing Shorty back into his shorts (oh, I get it), zipped up, patted me on the head as he said, "Thanks, man, I needed that," and walked out.

I licked up and swallowed what bit of cum didn't make it down my throat. Washing my face I realized I still had a few minutes to kill before class actually started back so I headed down to the on-site convenience store. I needed a cigarette and since I quit smoking almost four years ago, I was out. It didnt occur to me until I got to the smoking area with my new pack and saw him smoking with a few of the other Latino people who worked for our company to just bum one. Instead I paid too much for my own pack. The way all his buddies were looking at me when I lit up, I knew I'd need a few more than just one.

Just as I finished my third cigarette in as many minutes he nudged me on his way in, "you coming?"

"Yeah, I''ll be there in a minute."

I got back to class, got settled, and tried to get prior events off my mind. I wasn't successful, at all. I spent more time "readjusting" the hard on in my pants than the task at hand.

Just was I was in the middle of readjusting for the millionth time, he poked me with his pen and showed me something written on his paper.

"Go back to our spot for lunch. I need to pay you back for earlier," it said.

The note only served to make me even harder. But it brought a sense of pride in me too. I liked the idea that we had a spot. I knew that it didn't mean anything to him, but damnit, I was proud of myself. And, in a way, proud of him. I couldn't believe that this straight guy was going to suck me off. God knows I needed it.

When we got out of class for lunch, I headed straight back to that bathroom. But I didn't see which direction he went. I was waiting for what felt like forever in that bathroom, which is awkward already to just be hanging out in a bathroom.

Finally, I decided, to hell with it, and was on my way out when he started to come in.

"Where you headed?" he asked.

"Oh, I thought you backed out. I know youre straight, so, it's okay."

"Who cares about that, I'm not the one who's going to be taking a dick up my ass."

"Wha?" I didn't have time to finish my question since he was pulling me into the handicapped stall.

He held my chest against the wall while he grabbed his crotch. It was a handful, hell I knew that from the mouthful I got. "I think you're really going to like this," he said. He got really close to me then, and said, "my brother in law loves it every night."

"Look, Alex, I like you, really, I do, and, I mean, I'd be happy to do what we did earlier, again, but that, I just don't think I can do that."

"You better lube yourself up real good; it can hurt the first time."

He turned me around and held the bottle of lube against my chest until I took it. When I did, he unzipped his pants, pulled out his dick and started jerking off. I couldn't believe it, but he was already half hard. "Hurry up, we don't got all day."

He intended to do this, with or without my help, so I decided to help myself and dropped my pants, bent over, and squirted lube up my ass. It was a little cold, especially when I pushed it in with my finger, then with two fingers, trying to strech my hole as much as possible before Alex's thick dick could do the same chore.

"That's enough," he said.

I didn't really think so, but as I turned around and saw him sitting on the toilet seat, leaning back, his dick standing straight up out of his jeans, I couldn't help but think that he was right, that now was the best time to hop on and ride his dick until the sun came up. I took pulled my pants off completely so I could straddle him, but was only able to make a few steps toward him when he stopped me.

"What the fuck you doin'?"

"What?"

"I don't want to look at your dick. Turn your ass around."

"Oh, okay." I did as I was told, saddened by the fact that I wouldn't get to see his face through the experience. Using his legs between mine as a guide, I backed up, slowly, waiting for him to say something to me. Instead, I felt the head of his dick at the crack of my ass. I kept going, just a bit more, until I was certain that his dick was standing straight up, and my asshole was directly over it.

"Slide on down," he said.

I fully intended to. Even just at my opening, feeling his pulsing, throbing dick changed my mood, my energy level, my interest. No longer was I so unwilling; I wanted that monument to manliness buried in my ass.

I started to open myself up, to take what I could. What I noticed, once I felt my balls touch his jeans, was that, while his dick was a struggle to fit into my mouth, it fit just perfectly in my ass. Actually, I felt stretched to just the right point; I felt good. And it made me want more.

"Oh yeah, baby, you're gonna take all that, aren't you?"

"As much as you got to give me." There was no doubt in my mind that my ass could take his whole dick. If there's one thing I'm passionate about, it's dick.

"I love a tight ass riding my fat dick."

I was just started to get into the actual fucking, the up and the down when he stopped me.

"Good boy. Let's change something here."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that but I was ready for it. He put his hand on my shoulder, almost to keep me in place then I felt him push up, pushing his cock further into my hole while he was lifting himself out of a seated position. He didn't stop until he was standing up completely and I was bent over. His hand still on my shoulder, he placed a hand on the small of my back, pulled his cock almost completely out and then drove it right back in. With his cock buried to the hilt, I felt him wiggle his hips a little.

I tried to relax, open myself up a little more to him, to give him complete access. "Oh yeah boy you like that piece of Latin meat up your ass?"

I grunted because it was all I could do. He was still fucking my ass nice and slow and it was good, felt really good but I had been expecting the "real fucking." But, I was grateful he was taking his time; his cock was still stretching my hole. So I focused on his shoes, the tan construction boots that had become the staple of the Urban/ Latino culture, and the way his jean legs bunched up over the shoes.

Then I felt him stop. He took his hands off of me and I wasn't sure what was going to happen next. Was he done? Or did he just want to stop? I wasn't liking that idea so I started pushing back on his cock. "Whoa boy, hold on a minute there. Just wanna take my pants off."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, you're gonna get this cock." He dropped his jeans toward the floor but they were just crumpled around his shoes. "Now the real fucking can begin." He put his hands on my hips and said, "you ready, boy?"

"Yeah, papi, I'm ready."

He chuckled. "Papi? You gonna get it now son." He pulled out nice and slow, then rammed me so hard my head hit the bathroom stall door. But that didn't stop him. I just had to put my hands up on the door to prevent that from happening again. He was fucking me so hard and so fast, I wasn't prepared for it the way we had started. But at this point he was hitting something that was sending jolts through my entire body. The last thing I wanted was him to stop. So I started backing up into him.

"Oh yeah baby, take that cock, make it feel good," he said.

"Yeah fuck me papi, fuck me!"

"Alright, just remember you asked for it." He once again rammed me but this time instead of pulling out he stayed where he was until I could feel his boxer shorts up against my ass. He stayed in position letting me revel in the twight zone of having this straight latin man take ownership of my hole. Once my ass started twitching around his cock he started fucking me again, hard and fast, truly challenging me to keep up, hang on for dear pleasure. No other partner had fucked me quite the way he was fucking me, alternating between long slow strokes and fast deep pumps into my ass, reaching spots I wasn't aware existed, with no warning of a transition. It was like he could change pace and intensity and tone and levels of lust mid-fuck. I never had a clue what to expect next, and I never expected him to pull out when he did. I couldn't see him but I felt him push my shirt further up my back toward my head and I heard him pull the condom off.