[For the ‘real’ Solomon, wherever he is now days!]

Once again, Maraza had provoked yet another outburst of anger and invective; and Solomon had, also once again, sought out the only true solace available to him: Me!

As I let him into the apartment, we didn’t slowly segue into the cock sucking part as we generally did on other occasions; and instead, almost before the door was closed, Solomon was fumbling with his zipper, and unfastening his belt buckle and there was that fabulously warm brown Hispanic cock again, bobbing around in the air, almost nearly fully erect with what I assumed was the anticipation of yet another blow job from me!

All Solomon said, as I reached out and took his balls in one hand, and in the other his thick cock shaft, was: “Fucking BITCH!” 

He wasn’t addressing me, but rather, Maraza, his termagant, harpy of a wife, who delighted in torturing poor Solomon, and who, unwittingly, had sent her husband back to me once again! So I was torn between feeling sorry for Solomon’s domestic situation, on the one hand, and on the other, being glad that this was the case; because other wise, I doubted that I would be so lucky as to have Solomon as I at least currently did!

I tugged on Solomon’s fat brown cock shaft for several moments looking at it in silence, and I cupped his large balls in my other hand, and felt my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to lean in and kiss Solomon on his full lips, but I was still uncertain if he’d allow that particular form of affection, and so instead, I knelt on the carpeted floor on the living room, and began sucking his cock!

As soon as I had his cock inside my mouth, and my lips closed around it, I heard Solomon moan loudly, and then as I began pumping his cock, I heard him say: “Suck my fucking cock!” Then, a moment later he said: “Fucking suck it good!” There was, without mistake, an edge of aggression, and even a certain degree of perhaps menace in his voice, but that merely excited me all the more. I loved that macho quality about him; and of the obvious homosexual nature of what he and I both were doing together, while at the same time, he vehemently denied that he, himself, was anything but a frustrated married guy with a bitchy wife! Either way it didn’t matter. I had his cock in my mouth, and that was what was the most important to me.

I supposed it was because Solomon was still angry with Maraza (understandably so), but on this occasion it didn’t take long before he unloaded in my mouth; and though it all transpired so quickly (TOO QUICKLY!), nevertheless, as his warm sperm began spurting urgently in, and as I began eagerly swallowing it, the simple fact that I had it, and Maraza didn’t, sent a wonderful feeling of satisfaction through me!

I didn’t let Solomon’s cock slip out of my mouth until it had begun to sag a little and go flaccid once again. I looked up into Solomon’s face as I did, and I smiled; happy that he had, once again, come to see me!

“Fuck, that felt good,” he said taking a step or two back; his brown cock wet and shiny from our collective juices.

“Thank you,” I said, and then stood up.  I went and fetched him a damp  wash cloth. He took it; wiped himself; and handed it back to me without a word. His concern for being viewed as a ‘man’, and not a ‘fag’, was all important to his sense of self, and I understood that. To have thanked me, in his way of viewing things, would have placed him inside the ‘faggot’ category, and that was something he would never accept. So I thanked HIM, instead; even though he didn’t acknowledge the reason for it.

As he zipped up his jeans and redid his belt, we didn’t say a word. Again, for him, to talk very much was yet another thing only a couple of ‘fags’ would do. Hence, the relative paucity of conversation at these times!

Just as Solomon had arrived, with no preliminary fan fair or discussion, he left a few moments later; and without so much as a compliment of my cock sucking skills!

“I hope things with Maraza and you are better,” I said to him as I started to open the door. He gave a grunt, but that was as far as a reply went.

“Take care!” I said, but he merely grunted his acknowledgment and then he left.

I was just a way to get some sexual gratification after he had had a fight with his wife. I knew that perfectly well. I was under no illusion to the contrary! But still, as he left I did feel a certain sadness settle in, and I suddenly realized that he meant far more to me than I meant to him; and that my feelings were getting more—complicated. Was I starting to fall in love with Solomon? Surely not, because there was NO WAY he’d ever reciprocate in kind! And yet…

The End

Solomon & His Discontent

Write A Comment