Indian Gay sex story — Adventures of a cum slut – 1

Soon after my 18th birthday, I discovered my cock. All seven throbbing inches of it. About four times a day.

It was pretty much about then that I discovered something else too. Something sticky, salty and creamy. Something my body seemed able to produce in copious amounts every time I jerked off. Something which would change my life forever.

That something, of course, was – cum.

For a while, my own satisfaction had to suffice. Naturally. After all, I was a virgin and living in the wilds of New Brunswick was unlikely to change that unfortunate fact. So like most young teens, I had to be content with my own manipulation. And, for that matter, with my own spunk. Which, as I soon discovered, was a peculiar delicacy. Especially when I was feeling hot and dirty. When nothing but tight-fisted masturbation would appease my horny fantasies.

It was just as well, then, that I appeared to have two remarkable physical capabilities. Both of which assisted in the feverish consumption of my own wads.

The first was my ability to arch my back forwards at the point of climax, so that the end of my cock was no more than an inch or so from my open mouth. Not exactly self-suck, granted. But an impressive advantage in respect of my particular craving.

The second was the very gift of youth. The sheer virile craft of geyser-like eruptions. Pulsing from the groin with violent energy, so that each bolt of ecstasy spurts with volcanic force from the straining, wanton eye.

No measly dribbles. No tired, middle-aged drools. Just bolt after rapturous bolt of thick, effortless boy-honey. Arching proudly skywards, before landing with generous splats upon whatever naked flesh is exposed. Which in my case was always my tongue. Just a hair-breath’s distance from the source of the outburst. Thirsty for cum. Just aching to feel the heavy roll of jizz as it pours towards my tonsils and into the darkness beyond. Before trickling down my gullet and into my hungry stomach.

By the time I was eighteen, I had tasted and swallowed more cum than most guys might hope to take in a lifetime. But it was still all my own nectar. By now my private desires were becoming so insatiable that not even my over-productive balls could produce the quantity of baby-batter to satisfy my almost insatiable appetite.

Besides, years of speculation had left me wondering what it would be like to indulge in the offerings of another man. To suck the fertile riches from his crotch. To work his balls until the tubes were drained and empty.

Above all, to be in full communion with another human being and to have his juices inside me. Feeding me. Strengthening me. Filling me as only ball-snot can.

Which is why I quit college, left home – and headed for the bright lights of Mumbai.

I hadn’t a clue what I was gonna do when I got there, but I’m nothing if not resourceful and soon got a job working behind a bar in the city’s gay quarter.

Which is where I met Pritam, the bar manager. Ten years older than me, but uncommonly good-looking. Tall, dark – and with an air of self-assurance that I just knew testified to a pair of fine, healthy balls in those sexy jeans of his.

Not that I was able to verify that private assertion on our first encounter. But by our second night serving drinks together we had already developed a notable connection, with him passing comment on my ‘tight, sexy bubble butt’ and me confessing that I was still a virgin and hadn’t so much as seen another guy’s cock.

Which perhaps explains why he took it on himself to expose his rather impressive seven-and-a-half inch offering – an act that not only visibly encouraged the punters, but which left me in no doubt as to where I wanted to be nuzzling that night. I mean, Pritam’s cock was gorgeous. Thick, deeply-veined and uncut. There was not a single doubt in my mind that it wouldn’t produce copious quantities of the cum that I privately yearned for.

I knew Pritam would take my cherry that night. Just as he had with so many new boys behind his bar, I felt sure.

‘You fancy a coffee …?’ he casually quipped, once the doors had closed. Knowing full well that I was gagging only for sex.

‘Actually, no …’ I teased.

For once he looked surprised. ‘You don’t …?’

I stepped towards him – a tad more confident than my inexperience should’ve allowed. ‘I’d prefer to sup on something a little more – tasty …’

His dark eyes flashed in recognition. ‘Tasty …?’ he teased.

‘Let’s put it this way,’ I continued. ‘I don’t believe in spitting …’

We slipped upstairs. Into his bedroom, where we promptly pulled away our clothes and fell together in a sweaty mass onto the silk sheets of his mattress.

We kissed. An open, almost desperate kiss. Exchanging our bodily fluids. Running our tongues against each other. Whilst our cocks pulsed and throbbed, our cum-sacs tightened.

Indeed, it was the thought of those yet-undiscovered reaches that quickly led me to explore Pritam’s lean frame. Forcing my head down to his erect nipples and to the quaint line of hair between them.

I played with them momentarily. Whilst my boss arched his body in excitement – eager, I felt sure, for me to move towards his treasure trail and to the glories beyond. Indeed, I could hardly deny my eagerness to reach that most intimate quarter and, trailing the tip of my tongue to his navel, I reached out and clasped his swollen shaft, already drooling with a handsome flow of pre-cum. Little surprise that I should lick my lips in anticipation of the delicious nourishment to come.

‘Fuck, that looks good …’ I groaned, pulling myself towards my goal. Noting that his balls did indeed look large and engorged with pure liquid protein.

‘You like hard cock, dude?’

‘Love it,’ I assured, now rolling my hand up and down his pole – forcing a large pearl of fresh excitement to the head. ‘Especially when it gives me hot, fresh cream …’

‘I can give you plenty of that.’

I glanced up to look him in the eye, finally trickling the end of my tongue against his crimson crown. ‘That a promise?’ I quizzed.

I’m not exactly sure whether he ever truly believed that this was my first time, but in fairness I don’t think he really cared. All that mattered to him was that he had some young pup on the end of his shaft, sucking the life out of his manhood. Believe me, that was exactly what I soon doing. Drawing his helmet into my mouth, before slurping and drooling up and down its length. By which time I was half way to paradise.

Just to have my tongue around his thick, aching member was one thing. But to taste the sweetness of his oozing, excited tubes was quite another. Indeed, it wasn’t at all long before my mouth was literally frothing from the sticky forerunner. At which point I raised myself up and kissed Pritam on the lips. Forcing the salty taste into his own, quivering mouth.

Seconds later and I had returned to the source of my pleasure. But by now Pritam was clearly curious of my own hard appendage and, pulling himself over me, slid into sixty-nine position. As such, he started to feed off my proud boner, whilst I continued to inhale his thick offering, forcing it as far down my throat as I possibly could.

We were, it seemed, a perfect circle. Enjoined in all directions. Not that I had real affection for this guy, it must be said. True, he was a handsome enough stud, whose manhood was more than enough to satisfy me at that time. But this was, above all, a purely physical arrangement and the only thing about Pritam I really craved was the contents of his fuzzy cum-bag. So long as he satisfied me in that respect, then I would be more than happy with our present relationship.

What’s more, I think the guy was astute enough to realise this. Or at least if the way he was now pounding my mouth was anything to go by. For there was simply no disputing the almost frantic nature of his thrusts, whilst I hung on ever-tighter with my lips, hoping and praying that his spray would soon be forthcoming. That my wait for the first mouthful of cum from another guy would soon be at an end.

I was not to be disappointed. Within just a few more heated seconds I could sense that the guy was now reaching his climax, as he let my own hard cock slip from his lips and then rapturously groaned and spluttered. What’s more, his shaft flexed like steel upon my tongue, whilst his boy-glands tightened so far into his crotch that they almost disappeared.

This was the moment I had been waiting for all my young life. When another dude spurted his thick, tasty cream down to the back of my throat.

Yet despite such eager anticipation, I still remained unsure as to what to expect. Indeed, it wasn’t until the first angry bolt of cum erupted from Pritam’s fuming eye-hole, rocketing towards my tonsils with almost spiteful energy, that I fully and finally realised just how much this act of kink turned me on. For my throat seemed to open up like a drain, so that the thick spume of seed was immediately gobbled down my gullet. Followed, it must be said, by a series of equally generous blasts. Whilst all the time my mouth clenched firmly to the fellow’s shaft, pumping it for all its precious sauce. Pritam gasping his appreciation from above – amazed perhaps that he had witnessed such adeptness in my sordid perversion.

By the time the full fury of the storm had passed, trickles of creamy spunk were dribbling from the corner of my mouth. Happy testimony to the sheer volume that Pritam’s swollen love-tubes had produced.

Indeed, it was at that very point – lying content with a bellyful of fresh cum – that I first truly realised that my particular tastes need no longer be a selfish devotion.

That I might serve the needs of countless horny studs, whose balls were constantly brimming with sweet elixir and whose darkest desire was to have it sucked from them by someone like myself.

Guys like Pritam. Who actually got as turned on by being blown and drained as I was by performing the task. Guys who had no desire to sow their seed in the hope of having babies, but whose kink instead was to have their kid-broth savoured by a fiendish cum-taster like myself.

For believe me, I was left in no doubt that night that my boss was seriously enamoured of my performance. For no sooner had he turned to look at my sticky face, than he urged a repetition of the performance by thrusting his cock back into my mouth and demanding that I bring him off a second time. Which I did somewhat effortlessly.

What’s more, I think the subsequent load was even tastier than the first. Not quite as salty. Maybe even slightly sugary. The perfect antidote to any sense of sex-fatigue.

Indeed, what followed during the remainder of our encounter was surely incredible. As we engaged in what can only be described as an endless round of sordid fornication.

For having already cum twice, Pritam proceeded to insist on fucking me – with a cock that still appeared to show little sign of abandoning its rigid, pulsing nature.

No surprise then that I should wonder whether he’d taken something to maintain such a magnificent hard-on, but in fairness I suspect that he was just one very horny bastard.

That said, I found I had no difficulty in keeping up with the guy and in the process of him finally penetrating my greedy man-cunt with his thick, manly cock, spurted several loads of fresh jizz myself. Spraying them over the bed-clothes, which I later licked clean with my tongue. After all, it seemed a terrible pity to let such bounty go to waste.

By the time morning dawned, we’d fucked, sucked, licked and rimmed ourselves to paradise and back several times and even Pritam’s want on cock was finally spent.

Our balls were equally drained. His especially, given that I had forced four loads from those magnificent orbs. Almost every drop of which had rolled over my tongue and slipped effortlessly down into my stomach.

You know what? I didn’t feel the slightest bit nauseous, as perhaps I might have expected. Rather I felt fulfilled. Content. In complete fellowship with another guy.

Not that I was in love with Pritam.

To be continued ……

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