Chapter 11: Chapter 11

“You don’t waste any time, do you, Cord?”

He looked at me, shook his head, and said, “Suck me off, city boy. I want to feel the back of your throat against the head of my dick.”

* * * *

I’ve never told anyone—not even Melanie Banks, my oldest and wisest friend—that Cord’s cock was bigger than any I’d ever sucked before: bigger than Land’s and Jax’s, bigger than English professor Randolph Baau’s cock, and certainly bigger than the otherwise fine cock belonging to fireman Timmy Waterkill. Although Cord was only nine inches long, it felt like he was ramming a fencepost down my throat, choking off my oxygen.

On my knees, kneeling on my own cork floor, I sucked him with exuberant skill. I buried my nose and lips in his pubic triangle, took a generous whiff of his man-stink, and pulled away to dive in again.