Homeschooled

I'm not sure what time it was, probably around 2 am when I awoke suddenly. My breathing was laboured, and I could feel a fine sheen of sweat all over me. The last image I saw before waking was still clear in my mind; Jackson's cock. I collapsed back into bed, trying to regain my breathing as my heart pounded. I closed my eyes, and instantly, my mind was filled with those glorious images of that massive cock.

It was no use; I couldn't sleep, at least not without picturing that thick veiny ebony snake. Not that I was complaining. I'm not sure how much Jackson suspected after seeing that article on my laptop, but things had changed drastically inside my mind. I'd stopped looking at the sexy girls in porn a long time ago. I'd lost all interest in satisfying a woman sexually. At least, that's how it felt. It had started small, like a lot of men. At first, I could cum at the mere sight of porn. Then I had to wait for the woman's moans as she was fucked. Then I needed to see the cumshot. I lied to myself, of course. I would tell myself that watching some big stud wielding a thick cock cumming all over some pretty girl was a way for me to fantasise that it was me doing it and not him. It soon became unnecessary to watch the whole scene. I'd watch the preamble, maybe, focusing a lot on the initial blowjob and her technique, but as soon as the pussy eating started, I'd skip ahead to the end. That soon changed too.

Far too many scenes ended without facials, and in the end, that's all I wanted to see. I would search for facials, or cumshots, or thick loads every time. I wouldn't last long. However, soon my curiosity sparked, and I began searching for big cock, or huge cumshot, and found a varied array of videos that often didn't have women in them. Men would stroke their big, heavy cocks out onto a table, and I'd end up cumming while I watched thick ropes of cum splatter across a worktop. Gloryholes would always work for me. However, once I discovered the glory hole fakes, I was hooked. Do you know the ones? Where a guy visits a glory hole, but instead of a girl on the other side, it's a guy. Needless to say, when I pictured myself in that situation, I wasn't the guy standing up.

My emotions flowed this way and that as I lay in the dark, moving from awe to denial to guilt to jealousy to bargaining in seconds. What a beautiful cock—It's not affecting me—Stop it, it's Jackson—Whoever he's messaging is one lucky girl—Just one touch won't hurt, I'll do anything. It was like some sensual version of the seven stages of grief, only for cock. I tried, but within thirty minutes, I was back at my desk with my shorts around my ankles, jerking off to that teenage god's cock.

I did finally get some sleep, but my mind wasn't any clearer. I still dreamt of Jackson, and the new light I saw him in was a lot to handle—no pun intended. I needed to clear my head, so I went for a run, only clearing my head might not have been a wise move.

I'd reached about five miles when it hit me. As much as I was trying to forget about what I'd seen, I couldn't. However, instead of dwelling on it, my attempt to clear my head only brought the whole thing into focus. I stopped dead in the middle of my run. Thankfully no one was around to hear my exasperated outburst. Oh, fuck! My pace quickened. I darted through every shortcut I knew to get home as fast as I could. I flung the door open and dashed to my desk. The little cursor danced around the screen, and I found myself back in my mailbox. jdeggplant03.

"Jackson Davis... Had he sent them to himself!? That sneaky fuck. But why? He sent them to hi... for me." My head may have cleared during my run, but my thought process had only managed to go so far before it stopped midflow, preventing me from reaching its inevitable conclusion. He sent them to himself. His comment at the door was supposed to make me look. Jackson wrote those email subjects for me. "FUCK!" I slammed the lid of the laptop down and recoiled away from it like it was on fire. Not knowing which way to turn or what to think, I ran upstairs for a shower.

When the knock at the door came, I was still in the shower, where I'd been for the last thirty minutes. I sat on the floor of my shower, too shocked to move. The knock echoed through the house again, and I managed to shrug off my confusion just enough to stand. I turned off the water, grabbed a towel and made my way down the stairs. I arrived at the door just as the postman was writing a ticket to post through my letterbox. Also, making it the second time in two days, I would answer the door to a man in nothing but a towel. "Ah, didn't mean to disturb, but this one needs a signature." The postman waved the small box in the air.

I reached up with my free hand and took the parcel from him. "It's fine." The postman held out his pen and handed me the clipboard. "I just got back from my run." I turned to the hall table, put the clipboard down, and quickly signed it.

"Hey, I hear ya. If this past year has taught me nothing else, it's that you've gotta take these little moments when you can, am I right? Hell, me and the wife have already planned our next three years holidays. Ya can't take life for granted, not anymore. Carpe Diem, that's what I say. If you want something, grab it, am I right?" He smiled and snapped off a cheery salute before turning and walking off down my driveway.

"Yes, you're fucking right." And I want it bad.

I ran back upstairs and changed into some sweat pants and a ratty old t-shirt bubbling over with a nervous energy that I can't remember feeling since my first date with Cole's Mother. This entire situation was entirely different.

I once again planted myself in front of my laptop and carefully lifted the lid. I tapped the keys lightly as I logged in and watched my inbox appear on the screen. My eyes instantly found the words, When you're ready, call me. Instead, I clicked open; You can't resist, can you? I picked up my phone and hovered my finger over the speed dial of Jackson's number. "This will change a lot of things." I knew this already. The thought had gone through my mind more than once over the last few minutes, but there was something definite about hearing yourself say it. Say it out loud if you mean it, then commit, don't back down. "He's Cole's best friend. He's like a son to you. You've read him bedtime stories. You've tucked him in. Is this wrong?" Just think of his cock.

I punched the button, and the phone began to hum. One ring. Two rings. Three... "Hi Mr Martin, everything okay?" His voice was stronger than I remember it. He suddenly sounded more of a man.

"I'm r—ready." If you'd asked me, I would have told you that I was clear, loud and audible, but in truth, the words came out in no more than a whisper.

"Sorry?" Jackson was smiling, I could tell. He had heard me and knew I had fallen for his trap. His voice was soft, and his words came slowly. "I think you should say that again, louder this time."

"I'm ready." I barked. My voice jumped from one extreme to the other and caused Jackson to let out a small laugh. "Sorry, I mean... I'm ready."

There was a long pause, which caused me to wonder if I'd got this whole thing wrong. The urge to end the call was building as my embarrassment reached its height. "What are you ready for, boy?"

Boy? Did he just call me boy? "You know."

"I want to hear you say it, and don't be polite. Say it as if you mean it."

I felt light-headed. I thought about sitting down until I realised I already was. All at once, every porn video I had ever watched came flooding back to me. The crude dialogue ran through my brain like a dictionary of explicit phrases. "I'm ready for your..." my heart pounded, drowning out my thoughts. "... your big black cock."

The line was silent for a long time. I was about to ask if Jackson was still there. "I think you mean, Sir. Now repeat it, and no pausing this time. I want to hear the whole thing clearly. From start to finish."

Hearing Jackson finally speak was a greater relief than I expected; I smiled. The submission I was displaying didn't phase me, even if I had noticed. The whole situation just made my body tingle. "I'm ready for your big black cock, Sir. I want it. I need it. I'm yours." I wasn't expecting that last part, but for some strange reason, it felt natural.

"Good boy. I'll be there in twenty." The call ended. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. I had just said something to a man more than half my age that I would never have imagined I'd hear myself utter. He was someone I had seen grow from a young boy to the strong man he is, and I'd just begged him for his cock. No. I'd begged him to use me. What did that even mean? I had given him more power over me than I was comfortable with, but that very fact was why it thrilled me so much.

I stood up and walked to the living room. I poured myself a drink and downed it. The vodka burned on its way down; I needed it. I felt my nerves calm for a brief moment; then, they flared back to life, so I poured myself another.

I was still stood by the drinks cabinet, holding my fourth in my hands, when the knock on the door came. Shit! I swigged it down quickly, feeling my nerves build more ferocious than any time before. I put the glass down and turned to walk down the hallway. The frosted glass panel, inset in the door, ran from the floor to the ceiling. But even if it weren't frosted, you wouldn't have been able to see anything because a dark shadow was utterly obscuring the light. I'd never appreciated Jackson's presence before, but now I saw his immense stature in a new, menacing light, one that wasn't wholly unpleasant.

"Hi, thank you for coming," I said, pulling open the door. Jackson was wearing the same sweatpants and dark hoodie he had been wearing the night before. As he walked past me into the house, I reckoned they must have been either double or triple XL, unlike my small and medium versions of the same garments.

I followed Jackson into the living room, losing track of the situation. My eyes began roaming up and down his body. Even though Jackson's clothing was thick, you could tell he was well built. When they were younger, Cole and Jackson would hang out at my pool all the time. But, when Jackson started with the football team two years ago, and both of them having to take up summer jobs, it didn't leave them much free time. I had hoped they could spend some downtime this past summer before they went off to college, but then the pandemic hit. That delayed a lot of plans for a lot of people. I found myself picturing the half-naked Jackson I would see running around in my garden and comparing him to the man in front of me today. They were two vastly different images. I worked back through the years trying to work out when I last saw him like that and decided it must have been when he was still fifteen. Now at eighteen, he was a whole different person. Jackson had grown at least seven or eight inches, and his training had certainly paid off. I suddenly doubted my choice of words.

"How could I say no to such a lovely invitation." He crossed his arms in front of him and, taking hold of the hem of his hoodie, pulled it up over his head. "After reading that article, I took a look through your search history." My heart sank. "I never thought you'd be one of those pussy boys. You've always seemed more like an Alpha to me. I used to look up to you."

"What do you mean, used to?" I said, concerned.

"You're right. I guess I still do, at this very second, but by the end of the night, that'll change. It's hard to respect someone when you've choked them with your dick. You know what I mean? Nah, I guess you don't." Jackson let out a loud, derisive laugh. The content of his words hurt me, but the humiliation I was feeling by being spoken to in this way was far more potent than anything I had felt before. As he continued to talk, my spirit sagged, but there was no avoiding the fact that he was turning me on. He stood above me, arms crossed, accentuating his thick biceps and forearms. His t-shirt was taut across his chest, leaving no doubt of his well-sculpted torso."I have to admit, part of me didn't expect you to call. I certainly didn't expect you to call after less than a day. You must really be desperate."

"I couldn't help it. It's just so beautiful."

"What is?" Jackson's face was one of confusion, but we both knew he knew what I meant.

"Your cock, Sir, your Big. Beautiful. Black. Cock." There was no escaping it. I'd called Jackson here. I'd begged him to use me. It was time I accepted what was going to happen, what I wanted to happen. "You're such a stud. That cock is huge; it's the biggest I've ever seen. I want it."

A crooked smile crossed his face, "Music to my ears, boy. Now strip."

I tilted my head to one side in a questioning gesture, but Jackson only nodded down to my clothes and kept his arms crossed. In a similar fashion to Jackson, I slowly peeled off my sweatshirt and draped it over the back of a chair. I made eye contact with him and, bending at the waist, pulled my sweatpants down to my ankles, stepped free and kicked them to one side. I didn't cover myself. The time for modesty was over. My four-inch cock stood out proudly from below my waist, and the moment Jackson saw it, he let out a deep, booming laugh.

"Shit, no wonder you want this so badly." Jackson grabbed a handful of his pants and shook them in my direction. I quickly realised that the bundle he was holding wasn't his trousers but the cock beneath. It bounced in his large hand, lewdly swinging and bobbing draped in black. "Turn round, let me see that ass." Without pausing, I turned on the spot and faced the wall. "Damn! I always loved those summers here. Watching you get out of the pool in your wet shorts was a thing of beauty. I knew you had a fat ass, but fuck, toned too. I'm going to enjoy this."

I spun around and held my hands up. "Wait, I can't do that. You can't fuck me. That thing is too big."

Jackson's expression went blank; then he began to smirk. "Okay, but let me ask you something. And be honest, because I'll know if you're bullshitting me, got it?" I nodded slowly. "Ever tried a plug?"

I felt my cheeks flush as I shook my head.

"Want me to go through your things, or are you going to stop lying to me?" Jackson's tone dropped an octave, and any hint of a smile was gone.

My eyes dropped from his body for the first time since he'd arrived. "Yes. Yes, I have. I'm sorry."

I felt one of his large fingers under my chin. Slowly, he tilted my head to meet his gaze again. "That's okay, baby. I know you're nervous, but you'll learn. I'll always know when you're lying." As I stood there looking up at Jackson, he crossed his arms in the same fashion as before. Pulling his t-shirt free of his pants, he pulled the white fabric over his head. I couldn't help but gasp. He let his arms fall to his sides and smiled at me. "Like what you see?"

I could only nod. Words just weren't coming to me, so I stood there silent.

"How big was it?" Jackson held his hand up in the shape of a letter cee.

"five inches."

"Diameter?" I nodded. "Then, why are you worrying? Sure, you're gonna be a little tight, but I'll go slow. I can make it fit." The entire house was quiet. We just stared at each other in silence. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. "Come here."

I stepped forward, and Jackson placed a hand on my shoulder. He began to apply pressure, and I knew what I needed to do. My knees buckled, and I sank to the floor. Still, our eyes remained locked. "I've never done this before, not on a real one," I said quietly.

"Then we'll go slow, at first. Now, what do you think you should do next?"

I broke eye contact and stared at Jackson's crotch. I glanced up briefly, then raised myself into a kneeling position. Hooking my fingers into the waistband of his pants, I swallowed a dry swallow and began to pull. I felt the band vibrate as it twanged over his hard ass cheeks, and I bent forward, pushing his pants down his legs to the floor. I paused for a moment. My fingers didn't feel the material of boxer shorts on my journey over Jackson's thighs. I knew what that meant. Jackson didn't want anything in the way, he was expecting this to be a quick affair, and he was going to remove all impedance to what he wanted. Pausing for a moment, I took a deep breath and straightened up.

"Holy fuck, Jackson, you're huge." My mouth fell open in a similar fashion as it did the first time I opened his pictures, except I only used one hand to cover my mouth. I looked up at Jackson, and he was smiling down at me with a broad smile. He winked and nodded down. I gasped again when I realised why he was smiling. Only one hand had covered my mouth because the other had immediately taken hold of his cock, and was now slowly stroking it.

"You're a natural baby. When I read that article, I stroked myself hard thinking of you on your knees in front of me, just like this. I've wanted you for years; you're pretty for a guy." Jackson stroked my hair, brushing my long fringe off my forehead.

It wasn't the first time someone had referred to me as "pretty". More than a few exes over the years had made jokes that I was prettier than they were. I always put it down to harmless leg-pulling. It wasn't until I turned nineteen when a man approached me in a nightclub that it hit me. After that, I'd become hyper-aware of the looks I'd get walking around town, and I always made sure to wear outfits that screamed "I'm a guy!" but the advances didn't stop. Being called Baby wasn't new to me either. The first time happened when I was twenty-two. He was a colleague of my Father's and drunk. It was Christmas time, and my Father had thrown a party at our place. It was late, and I was upstairs on the landing when I heard him coming up the stairs; I remember the sheer size of him overwhelming me. "Hi Baby, fancy a rerun of last year, that idiot of a husband won't know a thing." A moment later, he realised who I was, and he appeared to sober up on the spot. Lord only knows what they had done the year before. "Oh hey boy, sorry, I thought you were your Mo—someone else." He looked me up and down. I was ready for bed, so I was only wearing a small pair of boxers. I turned to walk away, trying not to focus on the dirty liaison he had in mind, but I wasn't ready for what came next. "Damn, Baby, you've got a better ass than your Mother. If you ever want to break it in, let me know." Looking back, I don't think I truly appreciated what he'd said to me, but deep down, I think my curiosity about Black Men started that very second.

And here I was. On my knees, holding the biggest cock I had ever seen, and it had me transfixed. My hands slid up and down the shaft rhythmically. I watched as the head enveloped by the thick rolls of his foreskin, reappearing a moment later on the downstroke. I looked up at Jackson. My eyes were glassy; he smiled and gave me a knowing wink. I opened my mouth, never once looking away from those stony dark eyes, and leant forward. My tongue lapped at the large purple head, swirling around it like an ice cream cone. I let out a soft hum as I watched a bead of precum form at the slit of his cock. I paused for a moment and watched the little clear ball grow. My brain tried to process this moment, trying to document it. The moment my life changed. I pressed Jackson's cock to my tongue and tilted my head back, dragging my tongue up and over the crest of his cockhead. I felt the viscous fluid coat my tongue, and a shiver rippled through me. Out of pure instinct, my eyes shut, and I purred as I pulled my tongue back into my mouth and tasted Jackson's essence.

"That good, Baby?" Jackson sounded relaxed. My eyes opened to see his soft smile. All I could do was nod my appreciation. With our eyes locked again, I bent forward and kissed the tip of his cock several times. Moving from one side to the other, kissing all over his cock head. I lifted his large cock and pushed it flat against his taut abs. Leaning forward, I lapped at his big balls, marvelling at the rough texture, but at the same time, realising that they were holding a lot of cum. It was something I hadn't contemplated until that moment, yet, I found a new sense of wonder and anticipation to find out.