IDAHOT Day: No One Must Ever Know

Fully conscious of every instant, fully aware of the risk and the dare I was taking, I leaned over and wrapped my mouth around his cock. I took it in and felt it there, hard cartilage and soft skin, finally where I wanted it, deep in my throat. I moved my lips up and down, slowly and carefully. I felt his cock stiffen and throb. He didn’t say a word, and he didn’t budge from his position prone on the floor. For a long time he didn’t dare move at all, then he raised his hips. I touched his entire body with my hands, I let my mouth work his cock as it had never been worked. I was certain no woman or inexperienced boy could suck cock the way I can. I gave him my best, and he knew it. He felt it, because at one point, he leaned up, which caused his belly to tighten even further. He looked me in the eye, took my head with both his hands, and held my head gently but firmly as it moved up and down over his cock. Not long after that, he came in my mouth, quickly, with no warning. It was fantastic. He lay there, not moving except for shooting in my mouth. When he finished, his dick softened quickly and still he lay there. For a long time after I swallowed, I lay there as well, his soft cock still in my mouth.

Then abruptly he sat up, saying “I can’t believe it. With a buddy. With a friend. I mean. I can imagine doing this with a chick, but not with a guy.” He leaned over, still sitting on the floor, holding his heels, his head on his knees, his jeans still down around his ankles.

I took hold of his shoulder and said. “Thanks.” He looked at me questioningly, and I repeated: “Thanks, Philippe, that’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.” He went through the: “I can’t believe I did this — I’ve never done this with a guy before — I’m not interested in guys — I only have sex with women —” routine once more, and once more I reassured him. “It’s O.K.” I told him. “All men like to have their dicks sucked, even straight men. It doesn’t mean you’re a fag. In fact, it doesn’t mean anything except that it feels good.” I couldn’t help adding, referring to his stay in the hospital as a result of the knife fight: “And it won’t put you in the hospital for weeks or months!” The obvious truth of which brought a smile to his lips, at last.

I felt I had to know and asked: “Is this really the first time you’ve ever been sucked off by a guy?” and he told me: “Yes, and NO ONE must ever know about this. NO ONE! And this will never happen again. NEVER! This is the last time!!” I suggested gently: “Don’t make too many rules for yourself. It’s only the first time. You have to congratulate yourself for trying something you’ve never tried before. I think you’re very brave. In fact, you don’t have to congratulate yourself: I’ll do it for you!”

Once again he says: “No one must ever know about this. NO ONE! EVER!!” “I won’t tell,” I respond: “Will you?” He just looks at me, without dismay, without anger; more with surprise and wonderment. I continue: “This is our secret. No one will ever know except you and me. We know. You and I both know. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

Then he pulls up his jeans and looks me in the eye. I look him back in the eye and ask: “How about a drink?” “Yes,” he answers: “I could use a beer.” “What kind?” I ask. “Any kind, ” he replies. We drink our beers together, standing in the kitchen, making small talk, and he prepares to leave.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow,” he says, in his usual, friendly, forthright manner, as he opens the front door, “Just to say hello. Then on Saturday, I’ll introduce you to my fiancée. I want you to meet her, but I won’t see her until Saturday. Tomorrow I’ll just stop by to say hello ,” adding, over his shoulder, as he fades into the darkness of the marketplace: “But no massages.”

Never one to miss an opportunity for the last word, I whisper into the night: “We’ll talk about that tomorrow .”