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Chapter 3: Carrot Cake

The last time we had done this was two weeks ago, the night of the Easter visit, when I had put my mouth on him for the first time and figured out mid-act that I was apparently good at it. That night had ended with him stuffing my throat completely, his thighs locked around my head, holding me in place while I shoved a thumb inside him and felt his whole body seize up around me, giving me the most intense sexual experience of my life up to that point, by a significant margin.

Besides the morning-after blowie, that had been it. Cut to two weeks later, and after I finally found some jocks at school that were open to letting me explore their crotches with my tongue, lo and behold, Kyle is ready for my wet mouth again.

He dropped his pants without preamble when he got into my room, like he was mechanically ready for my services and understood after last time how little preamble I required. He looked at me with straightforward expectation, which was right on the money with me.

I was voracious for it regardless of how sore my jaw still was from earlier in the day. I got on my knees and breathed in once through my nose, letting the warmth of his crotch emanate onto my face, before opening my mouth and welcoming in his hardening dick with my tongue. I had him in my mouth in seconds, and savored the familiar weight and taste. It was different from Patrick, and very different from Shawn. This was the specific density of cock meat that lived in my house and first introduced me to sensual pleasures. It was a scent that I had imprinted onto my brain and would compare every other dick to for the rest of my life. I had spent two weeks thinking about it more than I had thought about most things in my life.

I swirled my tongue around the knob at the end, and he made a low sound and moved his hand to the back of my head.

After a minute he said, quietly, "The other thing…?" trailing off at the end like it was a question he was nervous to ask.

I reached up and grabbed his ass. We shifted together until we got to my bed and he laid back on it, lifting his legs. I worked my thumb into him quickly, more roughly than last time, while I held my mouth on him. I felt his hole open up for me the same way he had two weeks ago, his body remembering me, his breath dropping into the same register that meant he was out of it. 

I pulled back and crawled onto the bed, lying next to him. He shifted his body without being asked, throwing a leg over me and settling his weight onto my face, his thighs coming down around my head.

I got my hands into the meat of him and pulled him harder down onto me, letting myself get immersed into it completely. His hands were restless, running up and down my sides while he grinded his ass onto my face. He pulled out my dick and let it breathe in the air, shaking it around a bit before removed my pants the rest of the way. 

There was something about this specific position, his full weight pressing down, the heat and the smell of him, the most private and vulnerable part of him given over entirely to me, that felt special. I loved it as much as sucking his dick. Whatever masculine energy lived in him, it was being transferred into me, if only to experience it. I wanted to stay under him forever, even if I could barely breathe.

He made small, broken sounds above me, his thighs tensing and releasing against the sides of my head in slow waves as he touched himself intermittently.

Eventually he shifted his weight back and looked down at me.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand and looked up at him. I wasn’t sure if he was going to shove his dick into my mouth or what, but I had an idea for something else I wanted to try.

"I want something up my ass," I said, clearing my throat.

“Like… fuck you?” he said, almost stuttering.

“But I want to keep eating your ass,” I said. I can’t explain why that was important in the moment, but it was. 

He looked at me for a second, thinking. He nodded like he had an idea, but needed some guidance.

"Like what," he said.

We both looked around the room. My eyes landed on the remote control on the nightstand. I grabbed it and held it up.

Kyle tilted his head slowly. "That's… got corners on it."

We looked at it together for another moment. I put it back down.

"There's a cucumber in the fridge," I said.

He stood up. "I'll get it."

He came back with the cucumber and we both looked at it, considering it seriously for a moment. I leaned back and lifted my legs. 

“Just spit on it,” I said.

He applied as much spit as he could muster to the green vegetable, and pressed it against my hole. It was cold, and it was entirely too big. We both determined immediately and completely that it was too much cucumber. I made a hissing sound when it barely started to stretch me, and Kyle pulled back. We sat in silence for a few seconds, considering options.

"Okay," he said.

"Yeah," I said.

He picked up his phone and started typing. I watched him scroll.

"Kitchen oil," he said, reading. "We need lube… and something smaller." 

He stood up. "Gimme a second."

He came back with a carrot, the olive oil from next to the stove, and a condom from his wallet. I watched as he rolled the condom onto the carrot with a focused expression. He drizzled oil over it and rubbed it in for a few seconds, stroking his hand up and down the thing roughly like he wanted the carrot to cum. He looked up at me.

“You like jerking off that thing?” I asked.

He chuckled and pointed the organic, lubricated cylinder at me. "Ready to make a carrot cake?"

I braced as he brought it toward me. His own hard dick was throbbing in the air as he brought the orange, condom-laden vegetable closer to my ass. I wondered if I should just have him fuck me, but then I thought about the feeling when my face with smothered with pure man.

“Get back on me first,” I said.

He obliged quickly, hopping over me with his youthful vigor and planting his ass on my face. I lifted my legs and let him keep going while I slowly circled his hole with my tongue.

He started slowly and I felt every millimeter of the adjustment, as he started to pry me open. My body resisted slightly, unsure whether this was something it wanted, and then decided quickly that it very much was. 

Kyle found his footing quickly, and he started to pump me with the lubed up carrot with real commitment, not like he was doing me a favor but like he was getting something genuine out of it himself. He adjusted the angle to make me squirm, and pressed directly on the spots that made me moan into his ass. He was getting as much out of this as I was.

He learned to read my reactions, finding the specific things that made my breath change, and deliberately repeating them, over and over.

I grabbed his hips and pulled him harder on to me, and that made him start to bounce on me a little. I thought I heard him giggle at one point, like he was having fun. He started to put basically all his weight on me, suffocating me completely, making me briefly panic every few seconds before he released and let me suck in a quick breath of air. I got my tongue into him as much as I could while he worked me in and out with the carrot until I was a loose hole for him to play with. 

He suddenly moved one of my hands from his hip to his dick, and I stroked it instinctively. It had oil on it already, and I squeezed tight, feeling his meat baste in my hand as I wanked him roughly.

He reached down and got his hand on my hard shaft, reminding me that I had a dick that needed attention too. I lasted about five seconds, already edged to hell given the cumulative events of the day. He kept going until I was fully done and my sweaty chest and abs were streaked with my hot jizz. Then he added spit to the mess on me for good measure. 

I kept wanking him as my own orgasm waned, and soon he was moaning, and his butt cheeks were tensing on my face. His hole clenched onto my tongue as I felt him pulse in my hand, followed by his warm juices spreading across my abdomen, dripping down my sides in a juicy mess.

He pulled the carrot out carefully and threw it straight into my trash can. He wiped his hands on the inside of his hoodie before finally getting off me. The air in the room felt cool on my face, and I stayed still, just breathing hard, clearing my throat, in a daze. 

He briefly surveyed the mess he had made of me. 

“Always a good time with you, kid,” he said with a satisfied voice. Then he trotted his naked ass out of my room without another word, pulling the door most of the way shut behind him, leaving me a wet, messy pile of male fluids. And I was happier than I had ever been in my life.

"Fuck," I said out loud to myself.

I didn’t move. I wasn’t sure if I could or if I even wanted to. I lay soaking in the juices and stared at the ceiling, and let my nervous system flow with the special, quiet headspace I get after orgasm, which was amplified to new heights in this specific moment. 

This was the third time now that I had tasted Kyle to completion. The first time had been a random request from him that he was just fishing for, or at least that was how he had attempted to frame it, even though he said we shouldn't make it a “regular thing”. The second time was the morning after, which he probably justified as being part of the same event as the first one. But I was developing some photographic memory of my sexual experiences so far, maybe some brand of autism I wasn’t diagnosed with, and every event felt like a special, new thing. This was two weeks later, on a random Tuesday, and he had been the one to open his door and ask if I wanted some more of his nut butter. I wondered what that meant for Kyle exactly, but I wasn't going to push him on it. I was just happy to confirm that maybe this was going to be some sort of a “regular thing” after all. And with all the ass play he was apparently into, I had a feeling that the next time, I wasn't going to be the only one taking a rod up their ass.

After a minute, I reached for my phone and opened Instagram and scrolled through it, taking advantage of the short time I had before the hormonal engine would turn back on again.

I was just about to drop my phone and close my eyes when a Snapchat notification came through, right on cue with my returning male obsession.

It was Patrick, the jock ginger basketball guy whose giant cock was in my mouth that day. I had never even talked with him before the bathroom double-blowie, so I knew what this was going to be about.

I opened it.

Patrick: hey

I responded immediately. I had no stamina to play games.

Me: what's up

Patrick: that was cool today dude

Me: can't wait to do it again

Patrick: lol

Nothing for a minute.

Patrick: I'm home alone with my brother and a friend rn

Me: you guys wanna fuck me?

Patrick: LMFAO

Nothing for a minute.

Patrick: we'd be down

Patrick’s location sent a second later.

Me: See you in twenty minutes.

With duty calling, I dragged myself up and trotted my naked ass to the bathroom down the hall. Luckily, this wing of the house was pretty much private, the parents avoiding it entirely, probably afraid to catch me, well, exactly like this.

I sighed to myself as I cleaned up in the bathroom, wondering how I got so lucky. 

I guess when it rains, it pours.