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Chapter 3. “Learning My Place”
That was a summer of changes, and my transformation was orchestrated by Carlos, the cook at the diner I worked at. He was a married man who exploited my submissive willingness. He sensed that I wouldn’t protest or turn him in, and for weeks drove me to an abandoned parking lot to train me to be a better cocksucker. After a few lessons I learned how to better please him. I learned how to swallow, not spit.
Part of my training involved gay porn magazines. Early on he slipped a magazine into my backpack at work. “You’ll find something in there I think you’ll like,” he told me. “View it whenever you… ”
Whenever I masturbated – that’s what he meant. Which had to wait until I got home. But once there I went straight to my bedroom, locked the door and took the magazine to my bed. The pictures were mostly teenage boys – ‘twinks’ I would learn many years later – with older men. And this wasn’t teenagers and old guys pleasuring each other. No, this was solely teenagers servicing older men. Sucking off the men. Licking their balls and assholes and getting fucked in the ass. Was I offended? No, I was too horny to be offended. I had my pants off and my penis in hand, and for the first time in my life I masturbated to gay porn.
When he caught me alone the following week at work he asked, “Did you like the magazine?” When I nodded shyly, he asked, “And how many times did you…?”
“Just twice,” I lied. It was more like seven or eight times.
After work that night we didn’t even make it to the abandoned parking lot. Stopped at the first red light past the diner, he reached down and undid the his belt. As he opened his pants he gave me a quick look and before the light changed I reached over and snaked my hand in his underwear. His hardness surprised me. I stroked him for a few blocks until, unable to wait, he pulled down a side street and found an empty parking space. There, just two blocks from my house, I sucked him to completion.
As he composed himself I sat back up. “You enjoy sucking my cock, don’t you?” He waited for me to nod, then reached down to collect a few drops of cums with his fingertips. When he held it in front of my face, I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue to lick it. Carlos laughed. “You just can’t get enough, can you?”
I guess i couldn’t get enough. I had been trained to suck him whenever and wherever he wanted, and never with reciprocation. My own release always waited until I was home, alone in my bedroom.
* * *
One Sunday night, he again told me he would drive me home. Although the diner was usually open 24 hours, it closed Sundays at 11PM until Monday morning. The waitresses left illegal bahis by 11:15. I finished mopping up the back. Carlos was in the office. When I heard a tapping sound I turned to see him at the office door. He was on the phone – the cord was stretched taut to the desk – but he was motioning for me to join him.
When I stepped inside, Carlos remained talking on the phone. “It was kind of slow – even for a Sunday.” He pointed to the door; for some reason I pushed it almost all the way closed. “But I’m off tomorrow, so I can sleep in.” With a curled finger he signaled me to approach him. “And your night – how was…?”
I neared the desk until I was standing on a narrow carpet on the floor.
“And Maria? How was she tonight?” He took a step towards me. ” Uh-huh… And she’s still…” Although he was seemingly ignoring me, he casually placed his free hand on his groin, cupping the slight bulge in his pants. “Is she sleeping now?” He rubbed himself through his pants.
Now I knew what he wanted. It wasn’t really a command, and yet in reality it was. And when he removed his hand from his groin and placed it on my shoulder, giving it the gentlest of nudges, I slowly lowered myself to my knees and knelt on the carpet.
“What did she take before she went to bed?”
Just like in the car, this was neither seduction nor coercion. I, of my own volition, knelt before him and proceeded to do what he somehow knew I would do. I reached up and unsnapped his pants as he continued to talk on the phone. While he talked about sleep medications, I lowered his zipper, tugged his pants and watched them slide to his ankles. While he asked about a doctor’s appointment, I fondled his penis through his underwear (blue, silky, sexy). While he talked about finishing up work I withdrew his cock and and stared at it. While he said his good night and told his wife he loved her, I grasped his semi-erect cock in both hands. And when he hung up the phone, I moved my face closer, stuck out my tongue and began to lick the shaft up and down.
“You certainly know your place,” he finally said to me.
I looked up to see his slight smile, a smile of satisfaction, of control. Yes, this was my place – kneeling in front of him, ready to suck his cock. I was partly embarrassed by what he was implying, but was too aroused for deep thought or analysis. I just focused on the task at hand, which was licking his hard cock up and down the shaft. When I placed my mouth firmly around the head I began to stroke and suck, stroke and suck. He placed both of his hands on the back of my head. “That’s good,” he told me. “That’s real good.”
He was getting closer to climax. My hands kept stroking illegal bahis siteleri and massaging him. He loved the attention I gave his cock. He started emitting soft grunts, and arched his back to push his cock deeper into my mouth. “Take it all tonight,” he told me.
I really did want to take it all, to be the cocksucker he wanted me to be.
And then, once again, his cock throbbed and erupted cum, and once again my mouth was there to catch it. I held onto to him tightly, swallowing his warm milky fluids. And when he finished I pulled away. I remained kneeling before him, staring at his softening penis. I thought about his words: ‘You certainly know your place.’ Years later I would wonder if I actually ‘knew’ my place, or if Carlos had taught me my place. Had I always had a submissive nature, or had I been changed by Carlos?
* * *
Our sessions continued for about two and a half months, until without explanation they ended. There were no more rides home, no more diner office blowjobs. Maybe his wife found out. Maybe his religious convictions got the better of him. Whatever the reason, my days of sucking off Carlos had ended. All I had were the memories of those nights and a few gay magazines.
Magazines which were discovered my friend Danny. Normally I had them well hidden, but one weekend when my parents were out of town I had merely left them under my bed. Danny has stopped by in the morning and we were just chatting in my bedroom. He knocked a school book off my desk and when he bent down to retrieve it he spied the magazines.
I held my breath as he pulled two out and sat on the bed. At first he thought they were straight porn, but then: “Whoah, dude…” He gave me an strange inquisitive look. I shrugged, wishing I could hide away. When he asked where I got it I just said, “I found them…”
He eyed me carefully, trying to figure if I was telling the truth. (And twice before we had found some dirty magazines in the woods behind the school.) Then he opened the first magazine. He went through a couple pages, then looked back up. “Is this what you like?”
“No, I… uh… it’s just porn.”
“It’s just fag porn,” he said, trying to sound more scornful than I think he truly felt. And he couldn’t have been too disgusted because he continued flipping the pages. At one point he held up a page showing a twink on his knees servicing two older men. “A busy boy,” he scoffed. I noticed a slight rising in his sweatpants. (I guess almost any kind of porn will turn us on.) He set the magazine down and picked up a copy of Mandate. He went through about ten pages. “I can’t believe you…”
I couldn’t look him in the eye. I just stared at canlı bahis siteleri his shoes, and when he went back to looking at the magazine I looked into his crotch and saw that his bulge had grown more. At one point he rubbed his thigh with his hand, then he slowly moved it over his bulge to reposition his cock. The tent in his pants was now even higher.
What happened next was proof that the cook had indeed changed me. Before it had always been Danny who initiated our ‘playing around’ sessions, today it would be me. “Do you…” I paused. When he look at me I said, “Do you want me to…” I didn’t have to finish the sentence. My meaning was clear.
He responded in a tentative, hesitating way. “Yeah, um… Sure, if you want to.”
With that he returned his attention to the magazine, and I moved over to the bed and knelt before him. I reached for the waistband of his sweatpants. He lifted himself up and I pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles. I examined the eighteen-year-old cock I hadn’t ‘played around’ with in months, and silently compared it to Carlos’s. It was whiter and softer and unblemished. And now hard as a rock.
I took the base in one hand and his balls in the other. I wasted no time to cover his cock with saliva, and then engulfed it with my mouth. I licked him up and down, then swirled my tongue around the tip, doing things that Carlos had taught me. I had none of the hesitation of the old me. I started stroking him faster and even reached a finger under his testicles. Did Danny wonder how I had become better at this or was he just enjoying my new found techniques? I brought him closer and closer, until he finally tried to push my forehead away. “You better move,” he warned. And whereas before I would have released his cock from my mouth, today I actually sucked him harder. I kept my mouth fully on him, and was soon rewarded with a mouthful of teenage cum, so much more than Carlos, too much for me hold or swallow and as I pulled away from him cum dribbled out my lips.
It must have weirded him out, because he stood up and pulled his pants back up. I quickly got up and headed for the bathroom. Once there I spit some of his cum into the sink, the rest I swallowed. Standing there I rubbed my own erection through my pants. Needing release I opened my pants, freed my cock, and began stroking myself. I needed no lubrication; there was more than enough precum dampening my palms. My mind flashed to one of the blowjob pictures in that porn magazine, an image that helped bring me quickly to orgasm. And there I was, my cum in my hands, the taste of Danny’s cum still in my mouth. The guy in that picture knew his place, just as I knew my place. My place – on my knees, willingly sucking the cocks of Carlos and Danny. I had indeed been changed by the cook.
End of Story
Note: This is fictional story and is Copyright (c) 2018 by MRALX99. You may not copy or use it for any commercial purpose.
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