If you've read my other stories, you'll know that my younger cousin had some trouble making friends at his new school. But if you haven't read the other stories, here's a quick synopsis: he was a late transfer from out of state and it was his last year of high school. We got an apartment together. He was 18 and I was 23. He tried out for the baseball team and much to the players' chagrin, the coach let him join the team. At that point, he was very much an outsider, and the other guys weren't letting him forget it. There was one guy on his team, in particular, that seemed to be giving him some extra attention -- a little bit too much attention to call it run-of-the-mill hazing. My cousin could handle it, the other guys weren't beating him up or anything -- but they were being unnecessarily mean, borderline cruel -- and he would come home upset sometimes, which I didn't want for him, and that brings us to the beginning of our next story...
It was a spring afternoon, and I was home from work at my usual time. My cousin wasn't home yet, which wasn't unusual since he was busy with baseball practice. He came home in a huff, which also wasn't unusual lately. Although, I could never tell if it was typical teenage angst or if something was actually wrong. It was always a tricky game of 3D chess trying to get it out of him.
This time, something specific was bothering him and I was making it my goal to find out what it was. We were sitting at our table, having dinner, and I asked lots of open-ended questions, trying to get as much information from him as I could but it didn't really seem like he wanted to talk about any of it so finally I gave in and decided to go with a direct approach.
"I can tell something is really bothering you and you clearly don't want to talk about it," I said.
"Nothing gets passed you," he responded sarcastically.
"If you tell me, I can help you resolve whatever issues you're having," I said.
"I doubt it," he said.
"Doubt all you want. You're the one being all pissy and mopey. I'm doing just fine. If you don't want help, I won't help you, but leave your shitty attitude at the door," I said.
"Suck my dick," he retorted.
"Whip it out," I said, without hesitation.
He wasn't expecting that. He sat momentarily in stunned silence. I got up from the table, walked over to the living room, sat on the middle of the couch, and turned on the TV. He followed about 30 seconds behind me, but instead of sitting on the couch, or the recliner, he was standing on the couch, right in front of me, with one foot on either side of me, pants open, and his dick dangling right in front of my face.
"Suck it and I'll tell you everything," he said.
I opened my mouth and wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, sucking on it as it instantly got hard as I worked the shaft with my hand. Within minutes, I could taste his precum, and he was starting to thrust. I could tell he was getting close. I put one hand on his stomach to slow him down, and eventually get him to stop thrusting, and then I looked up at him and made eye contact with his dick still in my mouth and I slowly went all the way down to his balls, deepthroating all eight inches and finally licking his balls while the head of his cock was down the back of my throat. I did this a few times and I could see how wild this was driving him, then finally I went for it. I started deepthroating faster, trying to get breathes of air when I could, and then I slipped a finger up his ass and that was just enough to send him over the edge.
"Ahhhh, fuuuuuck!" He exclaimed, as he put his hands on the back of my head and pushed it all the way back down.
I could feel pulses of hot, sticky semen being released down my throat. I swallowed most of it dutifully. When he started to relax and literally let me come up for air, I worked his shaft to get the last few drops out onto my tongue and I showed him as I was standing up to meet him eye-to-eye.
"No, don't do it. That's fucking gross," he laughed as he tried to get off the couch, but his shoe was caught between the cushions.
I put both my hands on the back of his head and asked, "Feel familiar?" As I kissed him deeply with traces of his semen in my mouth.
He kissed me back because as much as he liked to pretend, he was a slut for it, too.
"I swallowed most of it. That's a first for me. It was like a gallon. When's the last time you came? Holy shit." I said.
"It's been a few days, I've been really busy," he said, "Sorry about that. I didn't know things would be going that way tonight."
"Well, at least you came pretty quickly. Mr. Meat was starting to poke my dinner," I said.
"It wasn't THAT quick," he said, a little chided.
"No, of course not... Speedy..." I said, laughing a little, "Plus I know anything in your butt is pretty much game over for you, so don't feel bad. Now tell me what's going on."
"Oh, yeah... That..." He said, bummed that I remembered, as he was pulling his pants back up.
"There's this guy on my team," he continued. I wasn't even remotely surprised that his problem was related to someone on his baseball team. I was trying not to show any reaction or emotion, so I wiped around my mouth with a finger and then sucked it. He laughed and asked, "Do you want to know or not?" I said, "What? I'm listening. Go ahead."
"Well, this guy on my team is always giving me shit for being the new guy. He's always calling me "new guy, fresh meat, fuck boy" just anything to get under my skin, and it's really starting to bother me. The season has barely started, and I already want to quit the team," he said.
"I suppose trying to talk to him about it is out of the question?" I asked.
He just stared at me.
"Right," I said. "In front of all the other guys, that's not going to happen. I assume he's full-on jock bro. He travels in a pack, probably wears his jersey over his shirt or wears his baseball belt with his jeans, and does a French tuck of his shirt."
"100%" he said, "It's so weird how you do that."
"I know the type," I said. "Why don't you invite him over some time? Pizza, beer, XBOX. Just him, though. Do you have his number? I'm sure it's on the roster. Text him right now."
"He's probably out with guys from the team. They'll totally roast me," he said.
"Fair point," I said. "Okay, wait until tonight. I have an idea. How old is he?"
"He's 18, too," he said.
"Cool," I said, "By the way, I got you something. Check it out." I tossed him a padded envelope.
"Ooh, a present!" He said, as he tore open the envelope.
He pulled out the contents and looked at them and he said, "Okay, I know this is a cock ring, but what's this little guy?" He asked as he held up a silver semi-circle with two barbells on either end. "I'm not piercing my dick."
I laughed and said, "I wouldn't want you out of commission that long, anyway. It's a glans ring. It slips over the tip and goes right behind the head." I showed him a picture of how it's worn on my phone. "It enhances certain sensations during specific activities..." He said, "Ooh, sounds like fun." I said, "And the best part is, you can put it on and it stays put so it's ready to go when you are." He said, "Naughty. I like it. I'm gonna go shower and get all your saliva off me and put these on. Thanks!"
After a while, he came back out of his room wearing just a towel around his waist and he stood in front of me. I was back on the couch again. I said, "You already got one today." He opened his towel and he was wearing his cock ring and glans ring and he asked, "Did I do it right?" I looked up from my phone and said, "Yup, sure did. Good job. Now come text your friend." He closed his towel, rolled his eyes, and said, "He's NOT my friend." I said, "That's the point. Let's change that."
He went back into his room for a minute and then came back wearing micro trunk briefs with "trophy boy" along the waistband and a t-shirt; the outline of his cock ring just visible through his underwear and a hint of the glans ring barely discernable.
"So you like them?" I asked, looking at his crotch.
"I haven't had much time to find out. Maybe later," he said as he pulled his phone out of his waistband, sighed, and sat down next to me.
