Taste-Test

"So, what do you want me to do?" Demmi asked softly.

"Just, um...can I undo your jeans?" Neville asked.

"Of course," Demmi replied, and put one hand in Neville's hair as Neville reached for the button of the jeans, proud and surprised that his fingers weren't trembling. He undid the button and slid the zip down, the tips of his fingers fully aware of the bulge just below the zip. With both hands he opened Demmi's jeans, feeling surprisingly confident in what he was doing, ignoring the rushing sounds of nerves in his ears, fully focussed only on what his hands could feel. Under the jeans the young man was wearing pale blue jocks, and above the band of those was very pale white skin, the paleness of skin that was not exposed to the sun very often, if at all. His right hand reached into the soft pale blue fabric, and brushed the hardened cock, then he curled his fingers around it and pulled it gently into view.

This moment-this closing of his fingers around Demmi's hard cock, was one of the times of his life Neville would later always refer to as a Great Moment of Liberation. He savoured the warmth and hardness of the boy's cock in his fingers, I've done it, he triumphed to himself, and without any more thought closed his whole hand around it, delighting in the warmth and hardness and smoothness of it against the palm of his hand, against the skin of his fingers. He slid his hand along the shaft of Demmi's cock-it was so pretty-and the head of it brushed against his thumb and forefinger.

With his thumb he rubbed around the rim of the head of Demmi's cock, then over the top of it, noticing the little dip his thumb felt when it slid over the little opening, his thumb explored all over that beautiful cock's head, noticing also the added heat in it compared to the shaft. Then his hand slid down that shaft, down to its base, back up, slid down again, thumb on the upper side of it, other fingers sliding along the underside, feeling its heat and hardness, then back up, again thumb rubbed over the head, warmer now, flushed a darker pink, and Demmi moaned very softly, then whispered:

"Hang on," and realised straight away that Neville would probably think he was doing something wrong, so he put his hand on Neville's, holding it around his cock, and continued very softly, "Can I take my shirt off? I think I'm going to get a sticky stomach out of this," which, he thought, will be a nice change to a sticky mouth and face and sore bum.

"I hope so," Neville replied huskily. "That's what I want...if it's ok with you?"

"Course it is," Demmi said, and leaning forward slid out of his jacket, then pulled the polo shirt over his head. Neville watched admiringly, his hand still on Demmi's cock, not moving, but occasionally feeling a little pulsing in it as the young man's body responded to the grip of Neville's hand. He was beautiful. As Demmi lifted the shirt over his head, Neville looked into his armpit, completely shaved, smooth, and scented delightfully, his eyes wandered so slowly over the young man's body, the small hairless chest, little brown nipples, the sweet little belly button with a tiny silver piercing, a flat stomach, and it was then that Neville took note of the shaven pubic area, and it all looked so wonderful his own cock was loving it too, and he was more aware of it now, how hard it was in his trousers, and how it was twitching about with his excitement. Demmi pushed his jeans and jocks down to his knees, and settled back in the seat.

Neville's eyes returned to the young man's cock, he could see all of it, his hand resumed its movement up and down the shaft, feeling it grow warmer in his hand, Demmi had started moaning very softly. Neville looked more intently at the tip of his cock, noting how deep pink it had become, his hand moved up and down, his thumb, when his hand was at the top of Demmi's shaft, stroking over the head of it, feeling its heat, the tightness of the skin, waiting for the signs of what was surely to come.

This time, as his hand slid down the base of the shaft, he let it go and cupped Demmi's balls, tight in the tightened skin of his scrotum ( what an ugly word, Neville thought) and held them for quite a few seconds, loving the warmth and weight of them, then slid his hand back up the shaft, gripping a little more firmly now, and Demmi's moans were a bit louder and more frequent, and Neville passed his thumb more slowly over the tip of his cock, and in the little hollow there felt the moistness, he looked at it closely, that tiny pool of clear liquid, and he wanted to taste that too, his hand let go and he placed the tip of his index finger into the eye of Demmi's cock, it was wider now than it had been before, and he scooped the clear liquid onto the tip of his forefinger, licked at it with his tongue, the only very slightly bitter neutrality of that early fluid delighted him, he kept it on his tongue as his hand returned to Demmi's cock, and stroked up and down still and raised his eyes to the young man's face, and it was flushed, and his eyes were intent on watching Neville's eyes, and:

"Faster," he gasped, and Neville's hand moved faster and faster up and down the shaft of the young man's cock, and Demmi was arching his back, and lifting his bum from the seat, and pushing his cock into Neville's fingers, fucking Neville's hand.|

In his trousers Neville felt hot wet spurts rushing up through his own cock, and he knew he was about to come too, and his hand moved faster and faster and then, it was a marvellous sight, a thick glob of white popped from the end of Demmi's cock onto his stomach, and Neville looked at it in wonder and delight, and then as he continued stroking and Demmi groaned a long, deep "Arhhhhh" a stream of white, like a long thick thread, burst from the young man's cock, Neville made his mind record how it streamed out so fast, up in the air just for moment, then fell to Demmi's stomach, lay along it like a ribbon, and Demmi relaxed, and Neville stroked once more, Demmi seemed to convulse, and then another large gobbet of white burst from the beautiful cock and landed in his belly button, and Demmi fell back again, took Neville's hand from his cock-it was aching from the pleasure it had just had, felt so hot, and more stroking would be too much, he wondered.

"That was wonderful," Demmi whispered gently, remembering then that Neville had said he wanted to taste him, and he put his fingers in Neville's hair and waited.

Neville loved the added intimacy of the boy's hand in his hair, adding to the intimacy they had just shared. His own jocks were very sticky now, and his breathing uneven too, in his mind he triumphed that yes, he had just made another man come, had watched him come, had watched that fluid spurt from another man's body.

Putting one arm across the back of the seat, so his hand could rest on Demmi's shoulder, his other hand went to the glob of white, he scooped it up with his forefinger, surprised at how hot it was, and raised it to his mouth. He put his tongue out, took a little lick at the white fluid, drew it into his mouth, savouring the taste. It was warm, very warm, had a texture all of its own, and did not taste anywhere near as bitter as some of his reading had led him to believe it might. It was bitter, but not unpleasantly so, salty, perhaps comparable to unsweetened coffee, but with a distinctive taste that he relished, and knew he would remember forever, and wanted a lot more of. He was liberated.

Neville put the whole finger in his mouth, sucked all the white thickness off it, held it on his tongue, swirled it around a bit, and swallowed it, tasting it still as it went down his throat. I will never get enough of this, he thought, his cock hardening at his new intentions. Demmi would not be the last young man he would taste like this.

"May I ...lick it off you?" he asked softly. In reply Demmi gently pushed his head down towards his stomach, Neville put out his tongue and licked along the thick ribbon of white semen. It tasted so good. He stopped half way up the boy's stomach, savouring the tastes and textures in his mouth, savouring also the scents of the young man's belly. He swallowed, then licked up the rest of the white ribbon. It is so hot, he thought, savouring it on his tongue and swirling it around in his mouth, the edge of bitterness gone now, it just tasted good, that was all there was to it. His mouth now roamed over the young man's beautiful smooth stomach, inhaling the scent of him, kissing the sweet skin here and there, reached his navel, where that last dollop of the thick white fluid awaited him. He put his mouth over the little hollow, his lips enclosing it, and sucked in, lapping with his tongue and sucking in at the same time. Another hot wet streak flashed through his own cock into his jocks. I will never get enough of this he thought, ignoring the little voice that replied that that was what he said about everything new he liked, and that pretty well always went bad.

He sat back up now, licking a couple of little drops of Demmi's semen off his lips, his eyes on the young man's cock. It had relaxed now, and Neville looked at how it appeared, resting as it was, pale and sort of half-curled. There was one more thing he had to do.

"Is it ok...would you mind...if I kissed it?" he asked Demmi.

"Of course not," was the reply: this is so different, he thought to himself. Here he actually felt safe and satisfied, and nothing hurt, and it all felt so pleasant and at ease.

Neville bent his head again, taking the boy's relaxed cock in his hand. It still felt very warm, and there was a suggestion of what it had just been like inside it, a sort of swelling inside it that Neville enjoyed feeling. He put his lips to the very tip of Demmi's cock, kissed it, could not resist, put his mouth over the head of it, closed his lips around the rim of the head and sucked very softly. Demmi moaned again.

Neville wondered, while it was relaxed like that, how much of it would fit in his mouth, and he opened his lips wider, and guided the shaft into his mouth, almost all of it, and slid his tongue around it. It tasted as perfection, and he concentrated on storing the memories of its taste and feel and texture in his mouth and in his mind, storing also all the different scents of this part of Demmi's body. But now he wanted to go and celebrate this great event, and with one last kiss on the tip of Demmi's cock, one last flick and lick at the sweet eye of it he sat up.

"That was all wonderful thank you Demmi," he said, wanting to kiss the young man on the lips, but not wishing to do anything that might spoil the whole atmosphere and memory of this occasion.

"Is there...is there anything you want me to do? " Demmi asked him, putting his hand to the still noticeable bulge in Neville's trousers.

"No, not now...it has been exactly as I wanted," Neville answered, feeling the slight pressure of Demmi's hand through his trousers onto his cock. That would be very nice, he thought, but celebration plans had taken over.

Demmi felt a little disappointed-he wondered if being fucked by this quite different guy would be any different to all the others, but he did not want to make him angry.

"Here...I've got some wipes..." Neville said awkwardly, and very clumsily leant over the front seats into the glove box.

"Thank you," Demmi said, taking a couple and wiping the remains of all the stickiness off his stomach.

Neville got out of the car and lit a cigarette, somehow feeling obliged to leave the young man some privacy as he dressed himself. What an odd idea, Neville thought, and cast it away. Nothing was going to spoil this occasion. He would drop the young man where he wanted to go, take the car home, walk the fifteen minutes to the tavern, and celebrate these great moments.

"What should I do with these?" Demmi called from the back seat, holding out the wipes.

"Just leave them there," Neville answered. He planned on keeping them, at least until the next time. Demmi had dressed, and joined him standing on the crushed limestone. The wind was very cold, and now it was nearly dark.

"Well, if you're sure there's nothing you want me to do-or to do to me?" Demmi said, letting that last bit linger in the air. He would quite happily have got on his hands and knees on the back seat for this unusual man.

"No, really, it has been wonderful," Neville said, pressing some money into the young man's hand, letting his fingers linger for a moment, the warmth of his skin.

"It has, I really liked that," Demmi said again, as he walked around to the passenger side, wow. The guy had given him double what he usually asked of men who wanted to fuck him.

"Is there somewhere you want to be dropped off?" Neville asked, starting the engine.

"There's a coffee shop near where we met," Demmi said. "Would it be all right to drop me there?"

"Of course it would," Neville said.

Most of the short drive back was in silence, except that Demmi told him about a place up in the port city, called the Savanna Bar, often frequented by young men like himself. He said he himself usually went there on a Friday night.

Then they were outside the coffee shop, and after a few polite thank yous and so on, Demmi got out of the car and went in, and Neville drove off, to celebrate this Great Moment of Liberation.