Get Along Little Dougie - Part 2

December 17, 1995

Our Story So Far: Yohannon has saved the world and the universe has blessed him with the possibility of love... or at least one hell of a lusty good time... with Brad, a VERY fat man with broad shoulders and a very open mind. While walking the streets of New York City after a typically awkward, yet promising, first date, they encounter Dougie. Dougie promptly gets into Brad's good graces by calling him nasty names and Brad returns the favor by rendering Dougie unconscious and dragging him to a very exclusive little dungeon hidden beneath the downtown streets. Yo and Brad get their first kiss, while Dougie (securely fastened to a study metal frame and now awaked and bellowing against the gag in his mouth) does his best not to watch what they are about to do...

I watched his body, hypnotized by his sheer size and beauty, as he settled down on a mat directly in Dougie's line of sight. When he beckoned toward me, I felt a twinge of conscience pop up (amongst other things) from the cloud of lust and desire. I managed to stomp it down by thinking that Dougie didn't HAVE to look, and that he could close his eyes... thus that line of consensuality wouldn't be crossed, would it? Fortunately, I didn't have time to pick apart my own arguments (which wouldn't have taken much effort considering how weak they were) as Brad reached out and grabbed me and pulled me close.

Feeling the heat of his body, even through my clothes, I felt faint. It was like walking from a freezer or icy alternate reality where the ice age never ended into a tropical jungle, hot and damp. He kissed me again, parting my lips firmly but tenderly with his tongue. I don't know where I had gotten it into my head that men wouldn't taste as sweet as women: Probably from being exposed to countless macho types who thought it wasn't manly to brush their teeth, even after vomiting after a long nights smoking cigarettes and drinking cheap booze.

Once I got over the newness of the experience, I threw myself into that kiss with gusto, and fell into him like he was a great soft pillow. So intoxicated did I get that I didn't quite notice in time as he started to tear the clothes from my body, seams separating and buttons popping. He misunderstood my muffled cry of protest, and whispered into my ear "Don't worry, I'll buy you new clothes". I Actually wasn't worried about that. What did occur to me was that it would be hard to explain where the clothes went when he thought to look for them, as they would appear in my drawers and cabinets back in my loft, neatly hung or folded, damage repaired, even before some of them hit the dungeon floor. It was a bit of magick that I normally deactivated before I got into a situation like this one (though honesty forces me to admit I had never quite been in a situation like that one before then!).

However his desire demanded immediate attention, and the circumstances suggested that he would probably overlook any overt oddities such as vanishing clothing.

The first thing I noticed was the texture of his skin. It seemed almost velvet-like in a way, and I realized with a bit of a start (and no small sense of foolishness) that it was the hair. I had been with some hirsute women even then (once with a definite beard... but that's another story!) but his body fur, not very noticeable visually, was thick enough to tickle my skin even through my own over-abundant pelt.

I decided I liked it, and moved on to considering other things.

The kiss was lasting a long time, and I decided that I could probably risk a little exploration using my hands as scouts with little risk of losing them to the jungle of his bod. I ran them down his back, feeling a tingle again as I formed a three dimensional image in my head of his shape: Strong, well padded and curved indeed. I blazed a trail down over his sides to his hips, taking handfuls of his belly where they joined them and squeezing, delighting in their firmness before parting ways with them, reluctant but eager to savor the round, intensely erotic feel of his ass.

He pressed against me harder, his eyes squinting as he tightened them closed and moaned when my fingers first touched that marvelous butt of his. There was a distinct dimple at the bass of his spine, suggesting the top of the "anal cleft" (yes, there is an actual scientific term for the ass crack!). I followed it down and discovered that it was a cruelly placed decoy, a canyon with a dead end. I spread my hands away and down, and with some stretching could now feel his full, round ass cheeks. Gripping firmly, I pulled them apart, and Brad starting humping me with a slow and gentle rhythm that made me even weaker with lust than I already was.

Part of that was the motion, the other was the awareness that something was growing between us. His cock was rubbing into my thigh, his great legs straddling and engulfing it. Leaving on hand on his ass, I reached down to hold it, and got a bit of a shock.

It wasn't as long as I expected, maybe only 6, possibly 7 inches. He was, however, far thicker than I thought a cock could be, at least twice as thick as my own cock if the feel of it in my hand was any indication. Face it people, there isn't a man alive who doesn't know how big his dick feels in his own hands while it is fully erect. If I was about, oh, an inch and a half thick, that would make Brad... uh... oh my goddess!

As I stroked it, I realized I was terrified... I never even had dreamed experimenting with a dildo that size, or even had thought that it would be an issue. I began to wonder if a city composed of runny brie cheese was such a bad thing after all.

I was torn from this dangerous line of thinking by a sudden muffled squeal from the general direction of Little Dougie. The moment shattered, at least for now we looked up, and my conscience, put on hold for way too long, had decided to complain to management. Management, in the interests of customer service, came down hard on the offending party.

"Bradd," I whispered, "I hate to be a spoil-sport, but I really don't feel very comfortable with this."

Bradd grinned. "We can always blindfold him..."

"No, that's not it!" I interrupted, "It's the fact that we're essentially kidnapping and, well, forcing him to participate in something... well... " I trailed off. I felt awful... If I went through with this I was essentially raping someone, and even Dougie didn't deserve that. Even if he had committed rape, I wouldn't advocate what we were doing to him now. Now, nailing his balls to a burning table bolted to the floor -- that was different. But I was even willing to forego what would be an amazing, pivotal sexual experience for my principals. Hell, I already had when Brad and I had met, though the lack of clothing and the obvious chemistry was going to make it harder than my dick currently was.

Brad apparently agreed with me, at least in principle. He grimaced and heaved a sigh that melted my heart all over again. "Well, there are some other possibilities..."

"Like?"

He leaned over and gave a tender kiss. "Wait here for a few minutes, and keep an eye on 'Little Dougie' for me."

We parted, and he walked over to a door to one side. I was way too fuzzy with a bizarre combination of lust and guilt to really pay attention to the room he walked into. I sat down and looked at Dougie as instructed as he glared at me over the gag.

It was a long few minutes, and I was tempted to challenge Dougie to a game of checkers when Bradd finally returned, wearing big grin. His brief absence made his sudden appearance wearing little else all the more arousing. I jumped up and ran into his arms, kissing him first this time.

"What's the deal?" I said.

He didn't reply right away. He looked at Dougie and grinned even harder. "Dougie, I think we have a deal for you that you're gonna like. Are you a fan of blow jobs, by any chance?"

I leaned over a whispered frantically into his ear. "I know I don't want to give him one of those, and you better not kiss me afterward until you brush your teeth!"

Brad looked wounded. "Now, I don't have any interest in doing that either! I made a few phone calls to some friends of mine. When I told them the situation they were only far too happy to oblige."

"Oblige? What, pray tell?"

"Don't worry! It'll be something that Dougie will be MORE than happy to consent to!"

With that he took me in his arms and sat me down by his side. I decided that if I didn't do SOMETHING I was going to burst, especially as his tongue slipped into my mouth. Which in itself gave me an idea.

One of my favorite pastimes is oral sex. While I had plenty of experience exploring the folds and crevices of fat women, I didn't have the slightest clue what to do with a penis, at least as far as my mouth was concerned. The few times I tried sucking on a dildo I felt vaguely ridiculous, the unyielding silicon that did other jobs so well feeling and tasting too much like an inner tube for any sort of erotic thrill to be derived from it.

Despite feeling about as competent as Bob Dole when it came to sucking cock (though I sometimes wondered about that man), it still would be a lot better to give fellatio a college try over trying to ram Brad's monster into my amateur ass. Besides, I wanted a good close look at it, my curiosity in actually seeing a penis up close overwhelming my fear of choking on it.

I started kissing the front of Brad's neck, his soft gasps encouraging me onward. I ignored Dougie's muffled grunts, deciding that if I could trust my instincts facing some of the weirder challenges of my life, I could trust them now, dwarfed as they were in the face of my lust. Some men thought with their dick's: Mine was a trusted advisor, but I still had veto power.

There was a thick ring of hair circling Brad's nipple presented my mouth with a puzzle. I solved it by twirling my tongue lightly around it, damping down the hair, moving it to one side, and producing the pleasant side effect of his nipple hardening. Bradd reached a hand behind my head and pulled my mouth down harder. I didn't need a greater hint than that, and began to suckle the nipple slow and firm. "Harder..harder!" he gasped softly, and I began to nibble softly, his body beginning to writhe in my arms, his breath coming in short gasps. I stopped working his right nipple and switched to the left, inspiring a repeat performance in Brad. Encouraged by his heaving body, I grabbed his nipple between my teeth and pulled his breast away from his body slowly. Apparently this was the right thing to do, as Brad stopped breathing and arched his back so hard that he lifted me from the ground, my body straddling his great belly, my hand clutching his broad shoulders.

I let go of his nipple with a snap, and Bradd suddenly gasped in air. "You should really remember to breath," I told him with a smile.

"Bite me!" He managed to piggyback onto one of his short breaths. He realized what he had said almost immediately, and began to laugh. I joined him for a few seconds, and then went about the task of getting him to stop.

I gave his belly a cursory swipe with my tongue, eager to get between his thighs. I skipped down past his crotch, averting my eyes -- partly to delay the inevitable, drawing out the tension, but also to avoid facing his erection out of old habit. Years of trying not to look like I was looking when I most certainly WAS looking out of fear of being pegged as queer was not an easy thing to overcome.

I slid down so that I could run my mouth over his knees. I was startled to feel his toes between my legs, massaging my balls gently. They let go only because I began to move my tongue up his thigh, sucking in mouthfuls of his fat, highly sensitive skin into my mouth.

As I moved up, he spread his legs slowly. When I reached mid-thigh, he reached down with both hands and lifted his belly up and away from his crotch. This motion finally gave me the mental push I needed to look at what I had been avoiding until then.

Despite the glimpses as he walked and feeling it first hand (as it were!) I wasn't really prepared for the stark reality as it stood forth, now completely uncovered by Brad's massive girth. It was pretty much as thick as he had envisioned it, though probably not three inches. Thick enough to make me wonder if my mouth could handle it after all.

I was overwhelmed with feeling of sexual inadequacy, an ironic sensation for a world saver. I could almost see the therapy session in my head: " Zo mister Yohannon, how long have you been compensating for your feelings of sexual impotence with zee messiah complex, Hmm?"

I swear that I gulped audibly. Until then I thought that gulping was something done only in comic book balloons, a figure of speech at best.

Girding myself, I decided to edge up to it slowly. I decided to use some of the same techniques I had used eating pussy, working up to the actual act slowly. It was difficult to imagine Brad's member as a clitoris, especially since it threatened to whap me in the face with every heave of his body.

I decided to use one hand to hold it still while moving around it in clockwise circles, suddenly bringing maypole dancing to mind. Funny that the symbolism never occurred to me before.

I'll never forget the moment my tongue first touched his dick. I was sucking his ball sack, mesmerized by the loose skin, when, almost without thinking about it, I moved to kiss it's base. I paused just a moment afterward, looking at the spot, and decided that if that much was enjoyable it couldn't hurt to try it again.

I kissed and licked my way up the shaft, mentally preparing myself. When I got to the sweet spot just below the head, I noticed his breath becoming more and more rapid. Brad began to say " yes" over and over again like a mantra. I pulled away and looked at the shaft head on, feeling like I was staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. During that moment a drop of pre-cum welled up, causing me to suppress a giggle at the image of an overflowing tooth paste tube.

I went for it.

My saving grace was a good imagination and a penchant for well written erotica. Fellatio has been described in painstaking detail by many, from the basic to the advanced methods. I widened my mouth as much as possible, pulled my lips over my teeth to avoid hurting him with my teeth, and hoped that my gag reflex was not as sensitive as it was when, at the age of 12, I got out of school by tickling the back of my throat and vomiting all over the vice-principal. It was a desperate plan to avoid getting the shit beaten out of me on the bus ride home. It worked, at least for that day, and the bullies in question came down with a horrendous stomach flu over the weekend and forgot all about me for weeks. I sometimes wondered if it was unwitting sympathetic magick on my part.

As the head approached my mouth, I reached my tongue out and lapped up that glistening drop. It tasted unremarkable, salty and smooth. I took the head into my mouth, my jaw almost dislocating as it passed my teeth.

I managed two inches the first try, and I was presented with an interesting problem: There was so much cock in my mouth I couldn't manuever my tongue. So much for pretending it was a clit!

So I decided to try arching my tongue against the base of the head and moved my head up and down. Using one hand to keep it from going in too far for a given stroke, I discovered I could use my tongue once it was just at my lips by tucking the head into my cheek.

Thwarting this excellent arrangement was the fact his dick actually got larger as he got more excited by what I was doing it. While I appreciated the good response, it made my eyes tear from the effort not choking.

Before I could consider the obvious conclusion of giving a blow job, Brad suddenly yelled " I'm going to come...I'm...OH!" My mouth was suddenly filled with spurts of ropy fluid, the spasms of his orgasm forcing his cock further into my mouth than before. He really did spray the back of my throat, the come slipping down my throat easily. Not wanting to tempt the retch gods, I managed to back off of his cock enough to catch the last two spurts in my mouth.

With an ease that scared me, he lifted me away from his crotch and up, my face suddenly level with his. He kissed me, his come still filling my mouth. I was amazed at how hot I felt at the sensation of our intertwined tongues, the salty taste of his come combining with the sweetness of his lips. Okay, so maybe that's going a bit overboard, but it was a magic moment for me.

We spent several minutes snuggling together and kissing. I noticed Dougie for the first time in several minutes. I have to admit the look of utter shock and disgust gave me a thrill, which made me wonder about myself quite a bit. I found myself hoping that something good would happen to the little slime bag to offset the feeling I was turning into one myself...slime bag, that is.

(to be continued!)