Sex Histories	Sex Histories Archive

Florida-- This is a factual account of giving my first blow job when
I was in my mid-teens a good number of years ago.

Bob is the very first person I can remember knowing. Remember him from the time I was about two years old. He lived only several houses apart and because we were the only kids in the whole neighborhood the same age, we became inseparable.

He was built like a bull and I was built like a giraffe. The other kids called us "Mutt and Jeff."

We both loved sports but because I did not have the weight to play football, I had to settle for basketball and track. Bob went on to be "All State" in football.

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We were closer than many brothers. In all the years I had known Bob, I had never seen him undressed until one day when we were about 16. I was hitch-hiking home from town when much to my surprise, the car that stopped was my friend Bob. He had just bought a new convertible with the money he had saved from summer and after school work.

He drove out past where we lived and into a wooded area where we did most of our hunting. He told me to come around and get in the driver's side. I didn't have the slightest idea of what was going on, except thinking maybe he was going to let me drive. I couldn't have been more wrong. When I got in and closed the door, I looked over at Bob. He was partially turned in the seat with his legs over the transmission hump and his back against the right door. Then I also noticed the top of his pants was open and his hard cock was sticking straight up in the air. All I could do was stare at it. It was the first time in my life that I saw another male with an exposed hard on.

The size of it surprised me, or maybe I should say the lack of size. It was only about four inches long, beautifully circumcised with a perfect light pink head.

He said, "Suck," which brought me back to reality. If anyone else had said that to me, I would have been all over them like "stink on shit." Sucking a cock would not even have crossed my mind, but since it was my "brother," so to speak, I didn't hesitate.

I took the head very carefully and slid my mouth down the shaft, being careful not to let my teeth touch his skin. When the whole thing was in my mouth, I just kept it there, not moving until Bob said to go up and down on it, which I did for several minutes until the very awkward position that I was in forced me to stop sucking and take the hard shaft in my hand and start jacking.

It felt funny the first time I took it in my hand, warm, soft, but hard as steel. The skin moved up and down the shaft easily but not as far up as my uncut cock did when I stroked myself. I jacked him for a couple of minutes, then went back to sucking, which was easier this time.

Shoots a wad six feet

I was beginning to enjoy it, but again, the half-turned position that I was in forced me to jack, which I was doing when he shot. The first spurt was about six inches, the second about two, and the third and final was just out of the end. This surprised me too. I thought he would shoot his load several feet like mine did when I jacked off. I could shoot up to six feet when I was younger, but now maybe it's one foot.

While Bob was putting his drained cock away, I got out and came around the other side. We changed places and drove home.

The second time this scene was repeated was several months later, the big difference being I was determined to be sucking when he came. I pulled off just a split second before the cum spurted, just like the first time, only a few inches.

The third and final time happened just before graduation. We drove to the usual spot, where I watched him undo his pants, take out his hard cock, and wait for me to go down on it. This time I told him to get out, that I wanted to do it outside. I pulled his pants down to his knees as he leaned back against the fender. His cock was sticking up at about a 45-degree angle and for some reason looked bigger than it did in the car.

I took the head and for a few seconds ran my tongue over every bit of it. I could tell from the noises Bob was making he enjoyed it too.

Then I did the same with the shaft, running my tongue over, around, and under every square inch as I took the whole thing in each suck, starting slowly and then sucking faster and faster. I wanted to give him as much pleasure as I was getting from it and judging from the animal noises he was making, I was doing just that.

It seemed a very short time later that he said, "I'm coming," and pushed me off just as the first cum spurted out. I watched the final spurts, again as the other times, only a few inches.

By this time, I had a good hard on and dropped my pants. My cock, about seven inches long, uncut, and very thick, sprang up. I pulled the skin back and told Bob that I was going to jack off before we went home. He said, 'You've got a big cock," and watched while I stroked myself for a couple of minutes. His was hard again so I had something to look at while I stroked. I only had to jack off for a very few minutes until I could feel the cum rushing up the shaft.

My first spurt was about six feet or more, and the next several only somewhat less. At the sight of the first squirt, Bob said, "Holy shit," and stared as I finished it off. By the time the last drop of cum appeared the cock was beginning to go soft. I wiped the cum off the head, pulled the skin back over the head, and pulled up my pants just as Bob was doing.

After graduation, we went our separate ways. I made a career out of the Marine Corps, moved to another part of the country, and never saw him again.

I had completely forgotten what happened until out of curiosity I picked up the last issue of Inches magazine, which I had never bought before. It brought back the memories.

Author Profile:  Boyd McDonald

Born in 1925 in South Dakota, Boyd McDonald entered Harvard as a high-school dropout after serving in the army in World War II. Jobs with Time, IBM, and several Wall Street firms preceded Boyd's career as a chronicler of gay sex. He was the founder and editor of Straight to Hell (alternatively the Manhattan Review of Cocksucking), and later published a number of anthologies of true sex histories. Boyd died in September 1993, two months after completing his final book, Scum.