Jerry's Obsession
by Rich D.
Copyright© 2025 by Rich D.
Erotica Sex Story: A high school senior has a lifelong obsession with oral sex with men. He meets a man online, and things become more spicy...
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Consensual Gay BiSexual Masturbation Oral Sex Petting .
I’ve always wanted to suck a guy’s cock. From the age of twelve, it’s been an obsession. Prior to that, I fantasized about it, but then the testosterone kicked in and turned fantasy into fixation.
My high school years have been the worst. Before and after gym class, I’m surrounded by naked guys, and in the showers, I have to joke around with them and pretend to be straight and pretend not to notice their cocks. Actually, I am straight; I just have this obsession.
The test for sexual inclination is this: If you look at the opposite sex 95% of the time, then you are straight. It’s more like 100% with me because guys don’t turn me on. I have never looked at a guy on the street or anywhere else and thought: Hey, he’s cute. I like girls.
Two nights ago, I was online in my bedroom and in a chat room. I was also browsing through the AOL newsgroups and decided to look in one called: alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.male.oral. I’d been in there before, but never on a school night, and not with my bedroom door unlocked. I got up and remedied that part of the situation right away. I couldn’t do anything about what day it was.
I was in boxer shorts and a tee-shirt. I had not masturbated in three or four days and was very horny. I had a pretty good erection from the last newsgroup I was in: alt.binaries.pictures.girlfriends.ex. In it, there had been a pretty brunette supposedly sucking her boyfriend’s best friend’s cock. It didn’t give her name or age, but she was definitely in her teens and a normal-looking girl. I think this guy really fucked her. Not fucked her, I mean really fucked her over.
Anyway, the brunette really turned me on, and so did the cock she was sucking. It was long and pink and alive-looking. It’s my problem in a nutshell. I have a dissociative obsession. I want the guy’s cock without the guy.
The chat room I was in was one of the ones created by local kids, so I wasn’t doing anything stupid there. But I had IRC open as well and was browsing there. When I saw a chat room named StraightguyslooktooMD, I went in.
“Hello,” someone immediately IM’d me.
“Hello yourself.”
“Where are you from?”
“Germantwon,” I misspelled. “You?”
“Germantwon? LO. Ijamsville. Know where that is?”
“It’s north of me. Near I-70, right?”
“That’s right,” he said. “So, you’re gay?”
“No,” I wrote back. “Bi, I think. You?”
“Committedly straight, but with a desire for oral sex.”
“Which way?” I asked.
“Receiving.”
My belly felt like a nest of squirming vipers. “How old are you?” I asked.
“25. You?”
“Sure you want to ask that?”
His reply came back slower than it had before. “If you’re under 18, we shouldn’t be talking. You’re 18, right?”
“I’m in high school,” I wrote truthfully.
“What year?”
“12th.”
“Plenty of 12th graders are 18.”
“If you say so,” I said.
When no reply seemed to be coming, I typed back: “I was teasing you. I’m 18. Want to see my license?”
“Do you have a scanner?” he wrote.
“Are you serious? I do, but I don’t think I’m ready to give you my personal information yet.”
He wrote back, “LO,” and I felt better. “So, have you ever done it?”
“Done what?” I asked.
“Sucked a guy’s cock.”
“Only in my dreams,” I replied truthfully. “Have you?”
“Twice. I like being sucked, but the first couple of times left me wondering how it would be, so I decided to find out.”
“Did you like it?” I asked.
“Not as much as being sucked. It was okay.”
I hesitated before asking this: “Do guys usually let you come in their mouths? And how many guys have you been with?”
“About 50/50,” he replied. “And six guys so far. All from AOL or IRC. Interested?”
I looked at my hands and they were shaking. I felt breathless and terrified. A guy I had never met and whose name I didn’t even know was inviting me to suck his cock.
“What’s your name?” I typed.
“Rob. What’s yours?”
“Jerry.”
“What school do you go to, Jerry?”
“Seneca Valley.”
“The Screaming Eagles. I went to Quince Orchard 9th and 10th, graduated from Damascus in 97. Moved to Ijamsville in 2002. Have an apartment here. Do you live at home still?”
“Yeah,” I wrote. I had calmed a little, not much. “When was the 1st time? Were you in school?”
“Hell no! You crazy LO? Not until November 2002. Been almost 2 years now.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t do it in college,” I wrote.
“Still lived at home. Didn’t move out officially until I graduated. Lived in a dorm the first 2 years so no opportunity there. Went off-campus after that but with three other guys, so no opportunity there either. Didn’t consider it until I had moved to Ijamsville.”
I wrote hesitantly: “Where do you usually meet? In your apartment?”
“Yeah. Twice I’ve met them someplace else, but mostly they like the privacy of my apartment. Beats the front seat of a car, LO.”
“Or the backseat,” I wrote.
He asked me again: “Are you interested, Jerry?”
“Yes,” I wrote honestly. “And very scared.”
“You have a right to be. My first time I was scared shitless and I didn’t even do anything. In fact, I was probably more scared than he was. I was petrified I wouldn’t be able to get it up. Could you imagine? Having a guy ready to give you head and not being able to get it up?”
“LO. That would be a nightmare, I guess. It didn’t happen then?”
“As soon as the guy touched me I started to grow. I got hard as a rock in his hand. He stroked me for about two minutes and then began to kiss it on the tip. Now THAT I liked, LO.”
“I guess so! Was he gay?”
“No, married. All of them were straight or first-time bisexual. 4 of the 6 were married. If you do it, you will definitely be the youngest one, though.”
My hands were shaking again. “How would we do this? Do I drive up to your place?”
“Yes, but only at night.”
I understood that immediately. My fantasizing took place only at night. I couldn’t even think about gay sex in the daylight. “It couldn’t be this weekend,” I wrote him back, and then asked myself why not. I had nothing lined up and nothing in the works. Fear, I guess. I followed with: “I said that because I’m scared. There’s no reason we couldn’t get together tomorrow night or Saturday night. If you’re free.”
“I’m free and very willing to meet you, Jerry. (Spelled “Anxious”, LO.) Want directions to my place?”
“Yes,” I replied. My hands shook worse than ever. I jumped at the sound of my brother laughing downstairs and was sure I could be seen through the curtained windows. My penis ached with longing and semen leaked against my right thigh. I wanted to tell him that, but couldn’t gather the courage.
“From Germantown, take 355 or I-270 to Route 80. Take 80 north/east to Prices Distillery Road, turn right on Ijamsville Road, and follow it north to Mahogany Run.” He gave me the street address and the apartment number of his place, which I won’t repeat here. “The next question, I guess, is when. And what do you look like, Jerry?”
Add embarrassment to trepidation. “Saturday night would be best, I think. I’m 5’9”, weigh 165#, have brown eyes and brown hair, and I’m white.”
“LO. White here too, 5’11”, 170#, brown and brown also. I’m cut if you’re interested in that and 7-1/2”. You?”
I wanted to giggle. I almost did. I was nearly too jittery to write. “Also cut and 6” long. Normal thickness. Takes a small hook to the left if that’s okay?”
“Fine,” he wrote back. “Just fine. Only keep in mind...”
He didn’t have to say the rest. I understood. “I’ll do all the sucking,” I promised.
Saturday night arrived and I was a schizoid-paranoia attack waiting to happen. Everyone knew what I was doing tonight. A big sign on my back announced that I’d be on my knees in a few hours gobbling cock. I had neglected to bring up the subject of sperm in the mouth and feared he’d expect it now. I had no idea if I could do that. I had no idea if I wanted to. The idea of cock in my mouth was bad enough. And the idea of swallowing? I shuddered mightily.
“Get a grip on yourself,” I whispered shakily. It was seven o’clock and getting dark outside. I already knew the way because I had driven up there last night to scope the place out. I had never been to Ijamsville before but felt I could navigate the main roads blindfolded. Of his apartment, I could recite the number of steps to the front stoop, the number of windows in the front of the building, the makes and models of all the cars parked out front, and the sex and colors of at least four of his neighbors. Two were females and one very cute. The other was a Goth and cute in her own way, I guess. I pray that he hadn’t seen me.
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