Tits Are Made For Sucking Ch. 02

After a few more kisses, I whispered against his collarbone.

"Let's just do this for a while. It feels good."

"Yeah," Mike replied as my mouth returned to his nipple. He closed his eyes and rubbed my bare back. "Oh, man, don't stop." He gripped my cock and began stroking it. I kept suckling him like I did my mother only a day before, but I couldn't hold out for long.

Moaning against his breast, I emptied my load onto the absorbent towel, my body tensing with each shock of the orgasm. Damn, it felt sooo good, but I needed to fuck something! What was I to do?

"Let me try something," I said, rising from our embrace. "Get on your hands and knees."

"What are you doing?" Mike asked as he obeyed. "You're not going to fuck my ass, are you?"

"No, but I need to fuck something, so humor me," I said, then added facetiously, "Don't worry, I don't want your shit all over my cock!"

"Fuck you," he replied with a broad smile.

"No, I'm going to fuck you, smart-ass."

I knelt behind Mike in a classic doggie-style position.

"Get your knees together," I said. He responded, reaching out to grip the headboard for balance.

I grasped my cock and pumped it a few times, getting it as hard as I could. A drop of semen glistened on the tip. Carefully, I guided my cock along his ass crack, slipping between his thighs. Once I was inside the fleshy walls, I began to pump slowly.

"Ahhh," Mike exhaled. "Okay, I understand. Yeah...yeah."

Soon, my body was slapping against his. The pleasure mounted as I acquired a slow, steady rhythm, grasping my best friend's hips.

"Damn, I like that." Mike wriggled against me.

"Me, too." I said, pleased with myself for having such a good idea.

My cock was rubbing against his balls as I fucked him from behind. I could feel his muscles tensing, squeezing my cock. My right hand slipped underneath and grasped his jutting rod, my other hand grasping his shoulder for leverage.

"Oh, Goddamn!" Mike exclaimed as I started masturbating him. "Fuck, yeah!"

The pleasure in my own cock was mounting as I gripped him tighter. My right arm pumped furiously as I humped against him. We both started moaning, and I wondered who would come first. I soon found out.

Mike's body began spasming. As he growled, I felt his drops of his goopy load splattering on the back of my hand. That was enough to send me over the edge.

"Coming...coming!" I whimpered, dumping yet another load. My come slickened Mike's skin, reducing the need for me to push as hard. I made a mental note to use lubricant next time.

For several long, languorous moments, our bodies fused together as we milked every little twitch and spasm of our climaxes.

"Damn...damn!" Mike couldn't stop panting with satisfaction. I felt the same way, reveling in the warmth and snugness of his thighs.

In time, we rolled on our backs, but never stopped touching one other. Gazing at the glittering popcorn ceiling of his bedroom, I slid one of my legs over his. I savored the feel of his skin on mine. Time floated along. Eventually, I broke the silence.

"Is this what they call afterglow?" I asked.

After a long pause, Mike responded. "Yeah, I would call it that. Damn, that was fan-fucking-tastic." He rolled over and pressed his mouth against mine. We kissed for a few moments. "Great idea, and as soon as my batteries are recharged, it's my turn."

I noticed the retreating sun had breached the thick, blue drapes of his bedroom.

"When's your mother coming home?"

"Ah, probably about six or so."

I looked at the small white Westclox on Mike's desk. "That doesn't give us much time."

"Yeah, you're right," he said. "Dammit. How about tomorrow?"

"I think I can do that, but I'm not sure if I can use the same excuse."

"And if your Mom's like mine, she can sense bullshit a mile away." Mike traced invisible pictures on my chest with his index finger, stopping to circle my nipple.

"Yup."

We kissed some more. His groin pressed against my hip and, of course, we were both hard again.

"Here," I grasped his cock. "We have time for this, then let's get cleaned up."

I moved lower on the bed. Raising up on my elbows, I began licking Mike's erection.

"Mmmm," he responded, placing his hand on the back of my head. I started taking his cock in my mouth. This time, I wasn't so clumsy. After a few minutes of me slurping and bobbing, he whispered.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I might be all played out."

With his cock halfway in my mouth, I grimaced. I took that as a challenge. Reaching up, I took his hard nipple between my fingers and started tugging on it, rolling it between my fingers. Immediately, he responded.

"Ohhh..." he sighed. "Yes...yes..." His hips began to move ever so gently, and I noticed he was tugging on his other nipple as well.

"That's it...don't stop," he said. His voice had changed register, getting higher in pitch as he moved closer and closer toward orgasm.

"Dammit, it's gonna come!"

In less than a minute, he shuddered another load, this time deep down my throat.

"Fuck yeah...yeah!" Mike quivered and writhed, his cock surrendering the last of his seed.

I chortled, his cock still in my mouth, at a job well done. With some more licking and smacking of my sticky, wet lips, I cleaned him up, my tongue taking a swipe at his balls before retreating.

"Oh!" Mike jumped, reacting.

"Something we can explore next time," I said, wiping my mouth on the beach towel.

Within minutes, we were back in our clothes.

"I'll let you know if I can come tomorrow."

At the same moment, we both realized what I had said, and started laughing. I still had the taste of his come in my mouth as we shared a long, languorous parting kiss.

"If you do come," Mike said, "park your bike out back, like you did today."

"Sure, okay." I replied with a puzzled expression on my face. "Why?"

Mike gazed into my eyes. "Trust me on this." He kissed me one more time. "Someday I may have a surprise for you."

Of course, I had to ask. "What is it? C'mon!"

"Maybe nothing, but we'll see. Be patient."

He walked with me to the back door and slapped my butt.

"Perhaps tomorrow, lover," he smirked.

I shot him a look. "Geez, are we turning into fags?"

"I don't know, and I don't care right now." Mike leaned on the door frame. Twilight had enveloped the neighborhood and crickets chirped their mating song. "Hey, I love women, don't get me wrong, but can't we have some fun, too?"

"No harm in that," I agreed.

Headlights shone behind us, and the slow, creaky hum of the electric garage door opener filled our ears. Mike's mother was home, parking her blue Falcon in the garage.

"Go out the back way, up the alley," he instructed. "Hurry."

Still confused, but filled with burning curiosity, I obeyed, slipping out the back gate and up the gravel alleyway. I decided to give Mike time to reveal his big surprise and just focus on the new dimension in our friendship.

With the weak headlight of my Schwinn jiggling its beam uselessly on the uneven sidewalk, I pedaled the two miles home, entering through the garage. Mom was in the living room, sprawled out on her Barcalounger.

"How did it go?" She asked, sipping a cup of tea as the television flickered.

"Not too bad," I replied as she lifted her face to accept my kiss. Again, the kiss lasted longer than it would have lasted the previous week. Feet crossed, she was wrapped tightly in her bathrobe with slippers on her feet. I inhaled that familiar scent.

"So are you ready for Mrs. Nelson?" Mom asked facetiously.

I paused, giving her the same look I gave Mike earlier. "I'm always ready for Mrs. Nelson, but I wouldn't want Captain Nelson to do to me what he does to the Viet Cong."

She laughed, her beautiful face and mouth a sight for my tired eyes.

"So napalm's not an option, eh?" She sipped more of her tea, and I detected a hint of cinnamon.

"Oh, hell, no," I said, retreating to my bedroom to remove my clothes. She called after me.

"If you're hungry, there's some beef stew in the fridge."

"Thanks!" I yelled back, getting naked, then slipping into my shorts and tee-shirt. The afternoon with Mike had worked up my appetite.

I sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning up against the base of the sofa, eating a bowl of Mom's savory concoction. Her bare ankles and calves shone in the television light only a few feet from my face.

"What are getting tested on?" Mom asked.

"Uh," I paused, trying to remember exactly what I had said to her previously. "Math."

Mom persisted.

"What, just math? Is it algebra? Trig? Voodoo incantations?"

I knew she was prying, but didn't want it to appear that way.

"We're reviewing quadratic equations," I said, and it was partially true.

"You should have been done with that a couple of years ago, eh?"

Mom was no slouch. She knew exactly what classes I was taking, the details, and when. One could never criticize her for being an attentive mother, sometimes to a fault.

"Well, with Mrs. Nelson, she wants to make sure we retain the information." Chewing, I put another spoonful of stew in my mouth. "And who's to argue with those big tits?"

"Oh, you!" Mom snorted. I studied the bones of her ankles and her calf muscles flexing as she re-crossed her legs.

"You should be watching the television, son," Mom said, busting me. She snorted again, adding. "Are you going over there tomorrow?"

"Where?" I pretended ignorance.

"To Mike's, silly!"

"Uh," I paused again. My wishes were coming true, and it was so easy! "Yeah, probably a little," I said, trying to sound casual and distracted. I turned my eyes back to the TV.

Mom didn't respond, so we continued watching what she dubbed the green-eyed cyclops for another hour. After those few rounds with Mike, my libido had been quelled somewhat, but I was still hoping Mom would invite me to her bed that evening. My hopes were crushed when she announced she was retiring for the evening.

"Can I come with you?" I asked.

"No, honey." Her voice sounded almost apologetic. "I need my sleep during the week, and so do you." She knelt down and kissed me on the mouth, and it was then I realized she was nude underneath the bathrobe. As it fell open, I slipped my hand inside to squeeze her luscious breast. She pulled back.

"And I said NO, baby," her stern voice raised a bit as she brushed my hand away. "I see we're going to need some new rules." As she cinched the robe shut, she added, "We'll have more time. Be patient." She kissed me again, gently touching my face as I savored her scent one more time before bed.

"Good night, angel boy." I watched her legs retreating as she disappeared into the back of the house.

Patience. Now both Mike and my mother were demanding it. I didn't feel like being patient! But I had no choice, really. I didn't want to ruin what I had with Mike, or my mother.

I returned to the kitchen and washed my dirty bowl. Placing it in the dish drain, I made my usual rounds per Mom's command, checking the locks on the front and back doors, making sure the porch light was lit, and all the drapes were drawn in the front area. There had been talk of a peeping Tom in our subdivision, and Mom would have none of that. I had talked her out of buying a pistol for protection.

I gazed out the front picture window for a moment, my head parting the drapes, my nose a fraction of an inch from the plate glass. My breath fogged it as I mulled over the many questions dancing in my head. As I looked out at the neighborhood -- the houses across the street and to the sides, their mailboxes, cars parked in the driveways, which houses had their porch lights lit and so on -- I wondered what went on behind those doors.

A shiny, new GTO rumbled past, headlights blazing.

Of course, I knew most of the neighbors. The Pratts across the street had a son in college and another in the war. They could never stop talking about either one, they were so proud. Our neighbor to the south was a young couple with a baby on the way. Mom swore she could hear them fucking loudly in their back bedroom, even with the pregnancy. To the north, a newly-divorced middle-aged woman who I suspected would be leaving soon. The nest was empty and the house was big. Behind us, across the access alley, was a strange couple, the Lesters, who dressed like hippies and there was always some strange odor coming from their back yard. I eavesdropped on them chatting during their frequent barbecues, hearing words like "ganga" and "Leary." All a mystery to me.

I wondered if any other sons were fucking their mothers in my neighborhood, or fathers diddling their daughters, or whatever other perversions permeated our superficially-tranquil, middle-class suburban world.

I also retired for the evening, removing my shirt and slipping into bed. The friendly, shape-shifting spots churned before my eyes in the near-darkness. The blanket was pulled up to my chin as I listened to my transistor radio. As The Troggs serenaded me with "Love Is All Around," I slipped into that middle-world between wakefulness and sleep.

What was Mike's big surprise? Was it wrong to be having sex with my mother? My best friend? Both at the same time? I was getting an education, and fast. I also realized the obvious. Mike and I led almost parallel lives. We were both the same age and attended the same school. Both of our mothers were single, hardworking, thirtysomething professional women who put their sons before any kind of social life. True, Mike's mom dated some, as he said, but they both provided solid foundations for their sons to grow and mature. From the way he spoke, Mike loved his mother as much as I loved mine.

With the exception of a fatherless household, I had a good life and an easy one, lacking very little. Mike and I both lived decent, middle-class existences due to the hard work of our mothers. I wondered what the introduction of sex would do to my world, to Mike's world, and to Mom.

As I drifted into sleep, I realized my hand was wrapped around my hard cock. I pulled it away, wanting to save my come for Mike, or Mom. Whoever got to me first.

Night breeze whispered in the tall pines outside my window as I dreamed of my mother's sweet face and breasts, and of Mike's naked body comingling with mine.

Sweet, sweet ecstasy.