Solomon was a very handsome Mexican married guy I knew for about two years. He and his wife have since moved and I have no further connection with him, other than memories; but these memories are very pleasant ones!
Solomon and I worked together and we got to know one another fairly well because of it. I wasn’t really ‘out’ about being a cocksucker, and I wasn’t really sure how he’d react if told him, so I just kept my preference to myself; and I also didn’t make it obvious that I found him to be incredibly sexually appealing as well.
But slowly, over the course of months, it became more and more obvious to me that even though he was married, he was unhappy in that situation. From what I could tell by things he’d say during our work days together that Maraza was something of a tyrant; and that she made Solomon’s existence a kind of living hell. I’d met her only a few times, and from what I saw, she was a horrible person, who was steadily draining Solomon of his money, his energy, and his life!
Once in a while, and partly in defiance of Maraza’s wishes, Solomon and I would go out to a bar had have some beers together, shoot some pool, and just hang out—and of course, I loved every moment of those times, and I became more and more attracted (and obsessed) by him; but I was still uncertain if I should reveal my true feelings for him!
But then one afternoon, Solomon showed up at my apartment (we’d stopped by there briefly a couple of times, she he must have remember where it was) on a late Saturday afternoon; and kind of drunk. I let him in, and he sank down on the sofa and began telling about yet another outburst of anger that Maraza had subjected him to; and to escape it, he’d hoped into his pick up truck and driven to my apartment! I was flattered, of course, that he’d even thought of me in that situation!
We sat and talked for perhaps half an hour, or so, when I decided that I was going to just come out and tell Solomon the way I felt towards him; and after I had, instead of jumping and leaving, and calling me names like ‘faggot’ and ‘cocksucker’ (all basically true enough), he remained seated. He just stared at me in silence. But then, after a moment or so, he said: “Yeah, well—I ‘aint no faggot. I’m Catholic,” he added, as if that meant anything particular. Which, to me, it didn’t.
Then, taking another chance at possibly scaring him off, I said: “I’d love to suck your cock, Solomon. May I?”
“Yeah?” He replied, still setting on the sofa and staring over at me.
“Yeah,” I said. “I really would. Let me do that for you, okay? That doesn’t make you a faggot if I do”, I added.
“No. It doesn’t.”
“Maraza would go crazy if she knew I would do something like that,” he said, and the way he said, the tone of his voice, seemed to indicate to me that he was considering letting me actually do that!
“Maraza,” I said, deciding to reveal my actual feelings about her, “is a bitch. She’s tearing you apart; and I can’t STAND seeing that.”
Solomon’s facial expression slowly softened after I’d said that.
Then, suddenly, without any words being said, Solomon stood up from the sofa and began unzipping his jeans (those tight, faded Levi’s, that showed off his muscular thighs and strong buttocks so very well), and he let them, and his boxer shorts slide down around his ankles. He stood there a moment looking down at his cock, which, though I’d often wondered what it was like, was revealed to be a very big and fat cock, with a nice cockhead bobbing around on the end of it!
“So ya want to suck my cock, huh?” He said looking up at me, were I had remained seated.
“I’d LOVE to,” was only, and heart felt, reply!
He sat back down on the sofa, and said: “Then—get over here and suck it.”
I was on my knees between his legs in a matter of seconds, and I gave Solomon as good a blow job as I possibly could; and as I was, I was happy to realize that he enjoyed that particular attention very much! He sat back against the sofa cushions, eyes closed (or so it seemed), and let me do everything I wanted to do for him!
I didn’t want to rush things unnecessarily, and yet, at the same time, I didn’t want him to perhaps change his mind and tell me to stop! Solomon had a really nice, thick, golden brown cock, that curved just slightly upwards in a beautiful arching trajectory; and his balls were as amply-sized as was his cock—and I had every reason to expect a very large load of his sperm when he did come!
For a moment, as I pumped his brown cock in and out of my slobbering mouth, and savored every last warm inch of it, I thought about his wife, Maraza; and having met her before, and having seen the way she harped, denigrated, and truly ‘nagged’ him into a glum, morose, and dejected state of mind, I loved the irony of the fact that I was about to relieve her unhappy husband of every last drop of his blood-warmed seed! Seed that would not end up planted inside her womb, there to make yet another baby the world probably really didn’t need; and almost smiled to myself as I thought all that!
But Solomon came much faster than I’d hoped he would, so I went with the flow (so to speak), and as his hot sperm came exploding out of his cock, traversing the length between his testicles, to the tip of his glans, I felt his orgasm as I kept hold of his balls; and they throbbed and pulsed as the muscles there expelled his load (and this time, NOT inside of Maraza’s pussy, but into MY mouth)!!!
“Oh! FUU-UU-UCK!!!” Solomon began, saying, repeatedly, as his orgasmic contractions continued to unload a truly large amount of his seed!
I did not stop from savoring his cock until it began to slowly sag and go limp once again; the orgasm now over for the time being. Then I raised up, letting his saliva-covered cock slip slowly out of my mouth, and feeling both incredibly exhilarated, but a little sad, too, that I might never get this chance ever again! But better once, I reasoned, than never at all!
“Wow!” Solomon said, as I got up off my knees.
“Good?” I asked, rhetorically, as I also smiled.
“You could say that,” he said, smirking.
“Better than Maraza?” I inquired.
“She don’t suck cock.” he said, somewhat dejectedly, even resentfully.
“Well now you know someone who DOES!” I said, hopefully.
“Yeah,” he said, “but I ‘aint a fag. Okay?”
“You don’t have to be that to enjoy a nice blow job, Solomon. If anyone is a fag it’s ME! Not you!” At that I smiled, trying to be reassuring (mainly because I wanted him to come back for another draining, and so I was trying to alleviate any qualms he had about being ‘a fag’, as he was obviously worrying about being regarded as!
He stood up and pulled up his boxers and jeans, zipping his fly and fastening his cowboy-style belt buckle, as he did so. I wanted to put my arms around Solomon, and to even kiss him(!), I knew that would only anger him, and very likely scare him off forever; so I held back.
He then excused him and left. At the door neither of us said a word about what had just transpired between us, and I merely said goodbye. I watched him from the balcony door of my apartment as he went to his pick up truck and drove away. I could still taste his cum in my mouth, and I stood there savoring it a while; and wondering if he’d ever come back—but I knew it was better not to pin too much hope on that. Solomon was a very macho sort of guy after all! In all likelihood this would the first, and probably the last, blow job I’d ever give him—but at least I’d ‘had’ him once; and once was better than never!