Jac and the Fat Man

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons, alive or dead, is purely coincidental. It's a slow burner. As a forewarning, there is a reference to thoughts of incest in this part.

With one last look at the photo of Henry, Jack closed the folder and placed it back on the bedside cabinet. It was hard to breath and as he stood up to remove his top, a relentless pounding in his head, Jack couldn't help wonder just how many men had sucked Arnold's cock. At least 2, that was undeniable and it blew his young mind that he knew them. Probably more though, but then, wasn't that the whole reason for asking Arnold to teach him? His experience? It was true that the old man hadn't actually told him that much, not really, but Jack just knew. The photos proved it and there were more that he hadn't seen, not yet anyway.

There was something else though. The image of him with Henry wasn't just of a man sucking his cock. It had been posed, he was certain of it, especially after what Arnold had told him. The look on his face and that smirk as he held Henry's head. And his neighbour on all 4's with his rock hard cock sticking down at a 45 degree angle. Everything about it oozed experience and confidence and was it... power? A big man. No, a huge man. Huge. Hairy. Strong. Confident and yes, powerful, exerting his strength over the much weaker kneeling form of Henry.

As he unbuttoned his shorts with trembling hands, more thoughts forced through the hissing noise that filled his head. What would his mother think if she could see him now? His father too. Or his brother. Why had Mark said he could go to his room later? Was there more to it than just to talk? Did he know he'd been secretly spying on him? Did Bob and Henry feel what he was feeling right now? Did it get easier the more they did it? Why did they like it so much and why did they look so... devoted.

It was the sudden, but gentle sound of his shorts hitting the floor at his ankles that brought Jack back to reality. Reality? It didn't seem real at all. That and his heavy naked buttocks, freed from the confines of the tight denim, wobbling uncontrollably like they always did. And of course, his tiny cock, rigid and wet, bobbing freely in the warm air. It was the very first time he'd willingly undressed in front of anyone and confident that Arnold wouldn't humiliate him, it was... well, it was...

"Leave your trainers on, Jack," he heard Arnold say.

It felt like a command, but there was no harshness in his tone. He stepped out from his shorts and he was naked, but then he wasn't, not completely. It was an unusual sensation. How could keeping his trainers on make him feel like he was still dressed? He had to look down to actually confirm it. Yes, there it was. His tiny, virtually hairless, stiff cock. It was hard to understand, but he definitely understood one thing. He'd sensed it on Friday too. Arnold liked it. Could a simple pair of trainers be sexy? Did it turn him on? Maybe he'd look in his mirror later.

Arnold gripped his cock and slowly wanked himself, licking his lips as he drank in the sight of Jack's cock hardening body. He doubted he'd ever tire of ogling it.

"Fuck, Jack," he groaned huskily. "You're absolutely fucking beautiful. I ain't never seen anyone as beautiful as you," he added, releasing his bottle hard boner. "Just look at how fucking hard you make me."

He was already flushed, burning up in fact, but Jack felt a surge of blood reddening his cheeks. Compliments like that were still difficult for him to accept. He just wanted to melt in Arnold's big hairy arms and feel the sensation of his hairy body crushing him. He wanted to wrap his arms around him and run his fingers through the thick pelt of fur that covered him. Looking at his thick throbbing cock triggered a rush of additional excitement and a certain amount of fear. His tiny balls tightened at the thought of putting his mouth on it.

"Turn around, baby," he gushed. "Let me see that beautiful big arse"

There it was again. It was still alien to hear someone saying "big" and "beautiful" about his bum in the same sentence. It was alien, but damned if it didn't feel good. So he turned around, the large mounds of jellylike flesh trembling as he did.

"It's like I died and went to heaven," Arnold wheezed. It really was and with 3 shorts steps he was standing right behind him.

Gripping his waist, Arnold bent his knees and rocked his hips to wipe his cock over all over Jack's cheeks, smearing precum over the alabaster white skin as he did. Carefully lining up his swollen shaft, he gently humped the remarkably deep crevice, revelling in the sensation of those huge velvety buttocks parting around his rampant cock. He'd fucked a lot of men in 40 years, but he'd never felt anything like this. It was like 2 big soft pillows caressing him and took all his willpower not to just bend him over there and then.

Jack closed his eyes. He felt helpless in Arnold's grip. He radiated strength and power. He was the epitome of masculinity, something Jack knew he could never be and it literally shook him to the core. His hands, the heat and weight of his thick cock on his cheeks, forging a path between them and the prickling of Arnold's dense pubic hair sent shivers down his spine. God, it was so close to his anus he could almost feel the hairs touching it. He couldn't stop himself pushing back just a little. Arnold's huge hands moved to his hips and fat strong thumbs pulled, then parted him. Fear and excitement in almost equal measures tore through his quivering body as Arnold's cock pushed closer and wiry hairs tickled his sensitive hairless hole. And then. Holy fuck! The feeling literally took his breath away.

"Oh God," he moaned, gasping for air. "I... oh... "

Arnold gently stroked his length along Jack's arsehole. Fuck, if he couldn't actually feel each and every glorious puckered inch of it. That sweet hole would be his soon enough and he longed to see it stretched around his thick pole. First things first though. One step at a time. Tonight was all about getting Jack's pretty pink lips around his cock and letting him explore. Lifting him effortlessly off his feet, he swung Jack around to sit him on the edge of the bed.

Oh the scent. The pungent musky scent of Arnold's beautiful, ugly, thick, hard manly cock invaded his nostrils, triggering his synapses one after the other in tiny explosions. A rope of precum swung like a pendulum barely a couple of inches from his face and he gulped down the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him.

This was it. He was actually going to taste it. He was actually going to put his mouth around another man's cock. What if he didn't like it? What if he wasn't any good? What then? What would Arnold say? What would he do? What if... ?

"Calm down, baby."

Arnold's reassuring voice sounded so distant and the hissing sound in his head was becoming hard to deal with. God, he felt faint.

"Start by gripping it and just lick the tip, Jack," Arnold told him calmly. "Don't worry if you don't like, I won't mind, but you ain't never gonna know if you don't try."

Of course. Yes. Just lick the tip. That's what he said wasn't it? Grip it and lick the tip. He couldn't be sure, but it felt bigger when he wrapped his fingers around. Bloody hell, it was thick. How would he ever fit it in his mouth? The string of precum still hadn't broken away. Was he supposed to lick it up?

Tentatively darting his dry tongue out, Jack brought it up to Arnold's fat helmet and the string of precum finally let go, sticking to his chin as he licked the tip and quickly closed his mouth. He couldn't really taste anything. Probably because his mouth was so dry. The old man's appreciative groan gave him confidence and he licked again. Then again and again, like licking an ice lolly. Was he doing it right? Did Arnold like it?

His tongue was wet now. Wet and sticky. The taste was quite unexpected. Sweet, but with a slight hint of salt. It wasn't at all unpleasant. Squeezing the fat shaft, another long dribble of precum spilled out and Jack quickly lapped it up. God. It was lovely. It really was.

"Put your mouth over the helmet and suck, Jack," Arnold said encouragingly. "You'll get a lot more precum that way."

He couldn't help but gasp as young Jack's hot wet mouth clamped around him. There's nothing quite like the feeling of a virgin mouth, the mental kick as powerful as the physical sensation. Jack's first cock and it was his. A few more evenings like this and he'd be slathering on his meat like all the other cocksuckers who were obsessed with it. No, that wouldn't do at all. He wasn't just another piece of meat. He wasn't just another Bob or Henry or any of the other supposedly 'straight' men who used him for their selfish kicks. Jack was a beautiful young gay lad on a journey. A journey that he'd been entrusted with.

Surprisingly and without any guidance, he felt Jack begin to bob his head. It wasn't deep and his technique needed a little work, but fuck, this lad was special. These were the signs of a natural born cocksucker.

The sensation was utterly, well, it was incredible! It just seemed right to work his mouth up and down. Arnold was right about the precum too. It was flooding over his tongue and tricking down his throat. He couldn't get much more than a couple of inches in without feeling like gagging and it was so thick he struggled to get his mouth around it. Trying to set up a steady rhythm was more difficult than he expected, especially when trying to suck at the same time. With more practice maybe he would get better. More practice? Was he really contemplating more? So soon? It was bewildering, but he already knew this wouldn't be the last time he'd be sucking the old man's cock. It just felt so right. So natural.

He loved the way it stretched his mouth, entranced by the sensation of soft silky skin gliding over hard spongy muscle between his lips. There was another taste too, especially when the foreskin went all the way back. Was it tangy? Whatever it was, it only added to the sweetness of the precum and the musky aroma. To him, it tasted like a man's cock should. The type of cock he could only dream of having. It was sensory overload. He hoped Arnold was enjoying it. He hoped he was doing it right because, in spite of his initial fears, he suddenly realised why Bob looked so happy in that photo. He understood why Henry looked so devoted. It was the most primal, exhilarating feeling he could imagine. He had another man's cock in his mouth. A REAL man's cock. It really was happening and, oh God, he was teetering on the edge, his tiny cock twitching uncontrollably.

"Oh fuck, baby," Arnold grunted. "You've got the mouth of an angel."

Really? Did Arnold really think that? Emboldened, he tried even harder. Sucked harder. Moved faster, running his free hand up and over Arnold's big hairy belly. Holy fuck! The fur felt wonderful between his fingers. So dense. So soft. It was everything he'd thought it would be, only better. Like running his hands over bear. A big hairy bear of a man. In his excitement he lost his timing and went to deep, coughing as he gagged.

"Just take your time, Jack," he heard the distant voice purr.

But Jack was in his own little bubble, just him and the cock in his mouth. That thick glorious man-cock spewing an endless stream of sweet precum to wet his tonsils. His jaw ached. Shit! His jaw ached because he was sucking a man's cock! Oh God! He LOVED it. His hand was on Arnold's thigh. That big, strong, powerful hairy thigh, just like the big, strong, powerful hairy cock that was making his jaw ache. Is this how Bob felt? Did Henry feel what he was feeling? Is this what it feels like to be a cocksucker? God oh God oh God!

He'd been determined to let Jack go at his own pace, but the lad was becoming a little too frantic and besides, he was close to spunking and that probably wouldn't be a good idea for his first time. There was no doubt now though. Young Jack was definitely enjoying it.

"Fuck, baby," he moaned, gently taking hold of Jack's head to stop him. "You'd better stop or I'll be spunking in your mouth."

He looked up, but he didn't really see Arnold. He didn't really see anything other than the cock in his hand and he wanted more. Arnold's words just mingled with the dark fantasy that was taking over. Nothing seemed real.

"I want you to," he said, his voice hoarse from his efforts, then clamped his aching mouth right back down.

"Jack, baby. Seriously, I'm too close," Arnold hissed, desperately trying to hold himself off, but Jack took no notice.

Of course, he could have stopped him easily, but, well, he really was that close. The need to cum was too strong, but still, he tried. It was a token effort.

"Jack," he whispered. "Please, baby. I don't think... "

Fuck. It was far too late to do anything anyway, his spunk was already charging forward, so he gave up the fight.

It had been a very long time since Arnold had just let someone suck the cum out at their own pace. Most every cocksucker he met wanted him to fuck their mouths. They wanted their heads held and their throats fucked. They wanted to be used and they used him to do it. It was good of course and he liked it, but it was purely sex and sometimes, after they'd gone, he felt a little sad. There wasn't any connection on a human level. So he forced himself not to hold Jack's head. He forced himself not to do the things he did to other men, gently resting his huge hands on Jack's slender shoulders and giving in to sweet virgin lips.

He could sense it happening. Arnold's cock was inflating in his mouth, just the same way it had in his hand yesterday. He'd seen what would happen. He'd seen the torrent of thick cum that he knew would very shortly be squirting into his mouth. One of those dark fantasies took over. One that had shocked him when it just sprang into his mind, completely out of the blue. Maybe it was born from all the years of humiliation and ridicule... maybe he really was a dirty little...

The fantasy was shattered instantly the first shot erupted, hitting the back of his throat. Completely unprepared, Jack's eyes widened as he gagged and without any time to react, another shot followed the first. Arnold's thick lumpy load quickly filled his mouth to capacity and he pulled away as another shot splashed his nose and chin. Coughing on the sour cum, tears streamed down his cheeks as he both swallowed and spat simultaneously. A big hand grabbed his and he was manhandled into wanking the remaining cum from Arnold's thick cock. It ran copiously over his hand and down his arm as he sat there choking and coughing, until Arnold finally let his hand go.

Leaning back, he slowly stopped retching and looked down through the tears. Spunk, some still clinging to his nose and chin, slid down his slim torso to his cock. A large lump was nestled in the tiny patch of red hair. His hand and arm were actually dripping in the stuff and unbelievably, his own cum clung to tip of his cock. When had that happened?

Thick clumps of semen stuck to his teeth and gums. His tongue was coated, sticky and cloying. He could feel it clogging his throat and belly. God! He'd actually swallowed some. Arnold's cum was inside him. And the taste. God, it was bitter, sour and acrid. How could something wet make his mouth feel so dry? He moved his tongue around the inside of his mouth, gathering up the lumps of cum, before gulping them down with a wince.

Oh yes. He was most certainly a cocksucker now.

"Shit, Jack," Arnold said, squatting down in front of him. "I really tried to stop you," he added a little guiltily. "Are you ok, baby?"

He looked up, dazed. A lump of cum fell from his chin, landing right on his belly button. "Y... yes,' he stammered, but he wasn't wholly convinced. "It caught me out."

Arnold was already wiping his chin with his bright pink shorts. "You should get washed up, Jack," he said, continuing to clean him up. "Go downstairs and get yourself cleaned up before you leave."

Then something happened that Arnold would never forget.

"Can't we just lie on the bed and hold each other for a while?" Jack asked him softly.

So Arnold lay down and let Jack snuggle up against him, wrapping a smooth hairless leg over his. Just for a short while, they laid together in post cum bliss like lovers, Jack running his small hand through the hair on his belly and chest. It was a tender moment that, for the big man, would stick with him forever.

The sun still felt strong on his way home. It was close to 9pm and he took long route again, but was home before he'd really made any sense of what had happened. His mum and dad were out, so he wandered up to his room. Mark's bedroom door was open and as he walked past, he heard him call out, so he double back and went in.

He was lying on his bed in just his boxers. "Hey, bruv," he said, scooting over to let Jack sit. "So how'd it go at the fat man's? I hope he ain't working you too fucking hard."

He blushed. It wasn't like he hadn't seen his brother like that before, but the inference to Arnold and the sight of Mark's bulge was all too close for comfort. If he only knew what he'd just done, well, it didn't bear thinking about.

"He's ok," he said quietly. "I deserved it."

Oh yeah, he deserved all right. He asked for it and he got it. Right in his mouth. His blush deepened.

"I couldn't believe it when you smashed his windows," Mark was saying. "But I get it, bruv. You probably have a lot of shit going on."

It was the first time he'd mentioned what had happened, but not wanting to go over it, Jack stayed silent. Mark turned to lie on his back, hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling. His boxers had tightened and the envy returned. God, his brother had a great body.

"Listen," Mark continued. "You know I'm here for you, don't you. You can talk to me if you want, or not, whatever, but you should tell mum and dad. You'll probably feel a fuck load better if you do. Being gay ain't a crime you know."

God! Was he still fantasising? The whole day had been so damned surreal.

"Yeah, maybe I will," he murmured, a lump forming in his throat as tears welled in his eyes. "It's been hard lately. Confusing," he added, standing up and walking to the door. He didn't want to cry in front of his brother. "Thanks Mark."

"No worries. Doors always open, bruv," he heard him say as he stepped into the hallway.

What? Did he really just say that? Jack looked back, but Mark already had his headphones on and his eyes closed. Did he mean? No, he was just being a good brother. At least, that's what Jack thought as he took a cool shower, but he couldn't help hoping he meant something else. Those dark fantasies were getting hard to control.

In his bedroom he listened to music on his headphones and tried to deal with everything. Damned if he didn't feel a weird sense of pride. He'd sucked his first cock and he hadn't backed away when Arnold came, well, not much anyway. His cum was swishing around somewhere in his belly and it was a strange feeling. Maybe like satisfaction? He wasn't sure if he liked the taste, but he knew he liked sucking Arnold's cock. Knowing what he knew now, he'd be better prepared next time. As Arnold had already told him, knowledge is power.

He drifted for a while, letting the music take him. Floating in out and of thoughts. Recalling the photos, the things that Arnold had said and what they did together, his tiny cock hard in his pyjama shorts. When he thought about Mark, he pushed the images away, but it was difficult. Much harder than it should be. He wondered what his cum would taste like. It was so much creamier looking than Arnold's and would probably be easier to swallow. No! It was just plain wrong, but still, as he fiddled with his tiny cock, it was the thought of his brothers cock spunking in his mouth that made him cum.