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I’m an average guy, average in build, looks, and height, so I’m not exactly proud of my body. On top of that, I’m incurably shy, which explains why I’m still a virgin at 25. But the one thing I am actually proud of is my cock. It’s pretty big, if I do say so myself, and best of all, I’ve always been able to cum really hard–I’m talking distance, volume, and number of shots. For a long time, I just assumed that all guys were this way, but when I started watching some cumshots online I realized I could beat them all.
Of course, a talent like this isn’t something you can just brag about to anyone, so it really sucked to know that here was my one amazing talent, my one thing that really set me apart, and I couldn’t show it off. I felt so unfulfilled that one day I gave in to my pride, filmed one of my cumshots and posted it online.
The response was amazing! Reading strangers’ comments about how amazing my cumshot was and how huge my cock was, I not only got turned on but started to get a little confidence and think that maybe I could actually get rid of my damn V-card someday. Still, anonymous comments and showing off online were nice and all, but what I really wanted was to share myself with someone in person. For example, a private session with some of the other big cumshooters I saw on the site–preferably someone with hard muscles for me to cum all over because that’s yet another of my obsessions: massively pumped up veiny muscles, the bigger the better. I’ve spent hours fantasizing about what they would feel like under my hands and against my body.
One day I checked my private messages on the site and found what looked like an invitation. I could barely believe what I was reading. It was apparently from the host of an underground “club” in my city that was having a cumshot contest in three weeks. They’d sent invites to several top cumshooters who’d listed on their profile that they lived in this state. Since the club was located in our state’s biggest city, it wasn’t such a big coincidence that I could easily travel there to participate.
The invite said the guys would take turns showing off in front of an exclusive group of like-minded individuals. There wasn’t a prize for the winner beyond bragging rights, but I guessed the winner would get all kinds of surplus benefits from the other guys at the club afterwards.
I could hardly imagine myself naked and jerking off in front of a crowd of strangers. But at the same time I knew I couldn’t pass up on this opportunity. My stomach was quivering and my palms were sweaty as I wrote back that I’d participate.
I had three weeks until the competition, which meant three long weeks of saving up my cum, fighting off the urge to jack off just at the mere thought of what was approaching. I did exercises to tighten my PC muscles, which control the flow of piss and cum to your cock. I’ve been training it for years so it’s nice and fit, but I dedicated myself even more to getting it in top condition. The three weeks seemed to take forever, but then finally it was the night before the contest and I could hardly sleep, lying in a hot daze, hard all night long with desperate worries that if I fell asleep I might blow a wasted load all over my stomach for some fleeting muscleman in a dream.
Finally it was the day of the contest. I edged all morning long, bringing myself to the brink over and over in a fevered daze, thinking about the millions of lucky people in the world who could get off right now if they wanted to, just reach down and get it over with, while I sweated and gnashed my teeth and moaned, fuck I had to cum so bad–tonight tonight, just a few more hours!
Somehow I got through that excruciating wait. I grabbed a couple of water bottles, got in my car and drove to the address I’d been sent. Surprisingly, when I got there, I saw it was just someone’s house. A pretty large house, with two stories and a bunch of cars parked out front. I thought maybe I’d made a mistake, so I spent a few indecisive minutes in my car, watching more guys pull up in front and head around the side of the house until I knew there was no mistake. I mean, they were fucking CARPOOLING to get here. Obviously some of these guys had come here over and over.
I got out of my car and followed a group of three guys around to the house’s back entrance, where a black-haired guy in his late thirties or early forties had just let the other guys inside. He looked at me and, unsure what to do, I blurted out my username from the site and asked if this was the right place. He smiled and looked down at my body. Things started to make sense after his explanation. “It’s my private residence, you see,” he said. “There’s no money involved, so if I wanna invite a few friends over to jerk off, it’s my own business.” Now that I thought about it, it made much more sense than meeting in an actual club somewhere.
I followed him inside and down some stairs to the basement of his house, which was a large room with rows of chairs set up around the edges, a space cleared in the middle. Under bright lights and a cluster of cameras there was a large glass table. It bakire porno was about seven feet long and four feet wide and I noticed a tape measure had been glued underneath, right in the center. Passing by the table, I saw that the numbers were clearly visible from above. It was warm and I could smell the faint salty tang of spunk from previous shows. There were already about thirty men in the room, chatting with each other and getting seats. I tried to avoid eye contact.
“Go through that door and you’ll get ‘backstage,’ so to speak,” my guide said, leading me to a door at the back of the room. “There are twelve guys including you in today’s contest, and you’re all gonna go one at a time. You got a preference when to go?” I told him I wanted to go last, and he nodded in understanding. “Right, the most time to get worked up, of course. Prime real estate. But hey–I’ve seen your video, so I was gonna offer it to you anyways. I’m really looking forward to seeing what you can do with it.
“So, you want to stay out here and meet some of the guys, or go backstage to wait your turn? You can feel free to jerk off back there. In fact, you definitely should, ’cause you only get ten minutes onstage to make like a fountain. So get those juices flowing!”
Glancing at all the strangers, I mumbled that I’d probably rather just go backstage. I was going to have to jerk off in front of these guys. Somehow, getting to know them first made that seem a little harder to do.
“Sure–ah, there’s the door!” We heard knocking from above. “Gotta go. I think that’s the last guy, and wait’ll you get a load of him!”
He jogged back towards the entrance while I made my way into the “backstage” area. It was about half the size of the main room and more brightly lit, with a row of chairs and a table with things like lube and tissues on it, set in front of a couple of TVs that were showing live feeds of the glass table from various angles. In the left side of the room there was also a door to a bathroom, so I could refill my water bottles there.
There were already ten other men there and some of them said hi to me so I shyly headed over to get a chair. It was a little awkward and I could hardly imagine jerking off in here, but before I reached the chairs, I heard the door open again behind me. I turned around and saw that a huge shadow had filled the frame.
My mouth dropped open and my whole body went numb except for my cock, which started straining against my jeans. An amazing musclehunk had entered the room, the most gorgeous mountain of swollen hard muscle I’d ever seen, wearing a tight white T-shirt and thin grey knee-length running shorts that dangled loosely around a swaying heavy bulge. He had short blond hair and blue eyes in a virile face and was about a few years older than me, in his late twenties, striding into the room and grinning at us, his eyes sweeping the crowd.
Then his eyes met mine and he caught me openly staring at him. I blushed and looked down, like I stupidly always do, embarrassed he might see how turned on I was, feeling my heart racing and my dick stiffening and my pulse throbbing in my neck and my wrists. This is why you’re still a virgin, why you’ve never even touched another man’s cock. I turned away, took a nervous drink from one of my water bottles. I heard our host welcoming the guys in the main room and asking them to take a seat since all twelve shooters were here now, and when I looked towards the TVs I saw the musclehunk had gone to sit down on the far left end of the row. Some of the other guys were already eyeing the one chair beside him.
I could hardly believe I was daring to do this, but I quickly went and took the seat next to him, feeling an electric wave of heat from his direction even though he was two feet away, and I thought I could smell his sunburned sweaty muscle scent. My cock pressed painfully and demandingly against my zipper.
I set my water bottles down next to my chair, trying not to stare at his golden calves like fists at the back of his legs, and that’s when I heard a deep rumble of a voice: “That’s a lot of water.” My heart thundered in my chest as I forced myself to straighten up and meet his blue eyes. I could hardly believe he was talking to me. Had he figured out how desperate and pathetic my obsession with him already was? Was he going to make fun of me? But he was grinning in a relaxed and open way and before I knew it I stammered out an explanation that it was a trick to shoot a bigger load. Drinking tons of water while jacking off, your body sends it straight to where it’s gonna be needed most, to get it ready to lube up the inside of your cock and come shooting out all over the place. It makes your semen wetter too, so it sprays faster and more fluidly.
“That’s a nice tip, man,” he said, seeming completely genuine. “I wish I’d thought of it. Hey, you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed one of yours?” Like I was going to say no! Of course he could borrow one, and I handed a water bottle across to him, watched him screw off the top, the veins rippling in his forearms, and saw him wrap brazzers his lips around the rim of the bottle and drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the middle of that thick trunk of a neck, a buoy riding a wave of muscle contractions.
“How much does it take, you think?” he asked. I told him to keep drinking it the entire time and to keep refilling it when it was empty. You’ll need to piss out a lot of it, but the more you drink, the more finds its way into your semen.
“You know a lot about this, hey? Looks like I’ve got stiff competition, so to speak,” he said with a wry glance down at my massive erection obscenely poking at the zippered front of my jeans. For someone who was stiff competition, I was sure wobbling all over the place. Besides, pick any part of his body and it’s stiffer than mine–well, maybe except one part.
Shockingly, he was still willing to talk to me despite my klutzy movements and fumbling words. “I heard about this place from a friend,” he explained, slipping off his running shoes. He was wearing no socks underneath, and his tan continued all the way down to his toes. “I mean, I’ve always thought I cum pretty big, but I never thought about comparing myself to other guys this way. I’m pumped to see it. How ’bout you? What’s your story?”
I didn’t know how to put the story into words, but I managed to explain the situation roughly, stumbling over myself. “So you were hand-picked, huh?” he said. “Sounds like it’s gonna be impressive, then. I’m lookin’ forward to it.”
He was looking forward to seeing ME? I could hardly process that thought before we heard the host calling out the first guy–a slender black man in his mid-twenties. He stripped right in front of us and jogged out of the room, his lubed-up cock already hard. I felt sorry for him, though. Ten minutes just isn’t enough time unless he already put in some work at home.
The other guys were already starting to get their cocks ready, some of them just undoing their zippers to free their rigid dicks, while others went all out and stripped off all of their clothes. I didn’t feel like sitting here naked for two hours, even though it was warm enough, so I just undid my zipper and pulled my pants down enough to free my cock and balls.
It stood up ramrod straight, and I could feel the other guys staring at it, heard someone say “Nice, man!” and “Woah! Look at that fuckin’ cock!” but I hardly noticed them, ’cause all that mattered was the big grin on the face of the guy next to me. He whistled and said, “Fuck, man! That’s an awesome cock!” rubbing at his own growing bulge pressing up the thin material of his shorts. “Guess I better get mine out too.”
He stood up, letting me take in for a moment the awe-inspiring sight of the brim of his shorts riding high on the curve of his perfect asscheeks, the rising angle of his thick cock lifting in front, tightening the material more over his ass–
And then he hooked his thumbs under the front of his waistband and slowly pulled them down just in front until a gorgeous uncut cock popped out and his heavy balls slid out to rest on top of his waistband. His cock was average length, but thick like a cannon with a massive purple mushroom head. I couldn’t take my eyes off it as he sat down again, leaned back in his chair, and then slowly slid his hand down his shaft, sliding the foreskin back, and I saw the cumslit in that hard round cockhead gape open and I could just picture the cum getting ready to fly out of it. It was hard to believe I’d get to see that very thing soon enough, let alone blow my own load with him watching. I just wished he’d peel off that shirt–that’s literally what he’d have to do, peel it slowly off his rock-hard muscles because it was stretched so tight tight tight across his trim waist and his wide shoulders, so tight you could see the cords in his massive pecs and the deep grooves of his eight-pack.
I wanted to tell him how fucking gorgeous his cock was since he’d complimented mine, but I couldn’t get the words out. I just started gently stroking my cock–not too quickly, I couldn’t lose it all now. And it would be so easy to blow it all with those fucking hot muscles twitching beside me as the hunk’s fist rode up and down his thick cannon cock.
The guy onstage was already getting close. I saw him twitching and groaning–fuck I love watching guys get close, seeing the tension building in their entire bodies, their balls getting tighter, then that hard JERK up and the hot sperm flies out, counting the streams in my head, seeing how far each shot flies.
By most people’s standards, it would’ve been a good shot, but not by mine. The guy simply hadn’t had enough time. The host checked the tape measure, said the guy’s cum had flown two feet and there’d been seven shots (only shots that visibly broke away from your cock counted, not those last drooling pulses at the end of the orgasm) and then he wiped off the table, clearly enjoying the job. The drained shooter took a seat in the clapping audience, still naked and twitching, wiping off the rest of his jizz with his hand.
The dede porno next guy was called onstage, an Asian guy with a great chest and thick arms and a nicely rounded ass. If that muscleman next to me hadn’t been in the room, he would have looked seriously buff. Nonetheless, I loved watching him jack his nice long cock, running my hand up and down my own stiff member, drinking water with a shaking hand. The verdict: a foot and a half, six shots of cum. Those numbers didn’t really do him justice though, because he had one of those amazing cocks where the cum actually POURS out in a stream for a full second, as if he was pissing cum. It would have been too hard to measure volume, but we could all see a creamy thick puddle of jism on the table. I had to stop stroking for a minute, feeling some tentative twitching from my engorged cock.
The other men kept getting called onstage for their ten minutes at the table. An hour went by and we were halfway through. In the lead was a middle-aged, unassuming guy who’d shot thirteen blasts of cum which landed as far as four and a half feet down the table. Because each guy went to sit in the audience after he was done, it was getting emptier backstage, and the air was hot and humid and filled with the sounds of slapping skin and suppressed grunts. The hunk and I kept drinking water and having to go piss, but no one else was using the strategy.
The guys made ribald comments to each other and cheered on the shooter who was onstage, but I was too shy to say anything else to the man next to me, and he seemed like he was concentrating on his cock, enjoying the feel of that massive meat in his fist, his swelling and contracting muscles starting to get slick and shiny with sweat. We watched four more guys take their turns, the most impressive being a tattooed guy with nipple rings who shot twelve fat wads of spunk just under four feet down the table.
Guy number 10 was called out, and it was down to just the two of us. I tried to focus on edging but I kept getting distracted by the rippling muscle show beside me. He had his eyes closed, getting ready for his turn until I heard a guttural groan deep in his throat and he burst out, “Fuck man, I’ve never had to cum so bad in my life! Look at this fuckin’ precum!” and he dipped a finger into his cumslit and raised it, a long strand of sticky clear fluid trailing from that shiny, bobbing red-purple cockhead. I stammered something mostly insensible as he started to smear it all over the tip of his thick tool. My cock hadn’t leaked out any precum, but just because I’m always like that: my fluids all get stored up for the main event.
The guy onstage jerked himself to a thirteen-shot four-footer and then suddenly–“Jake! Jake! Cooooome on out!” and the muscular hunk stopped pumping his cock, saying “Wish me luck” and my mouth fell open when, before I could mentally prepare myself for the sight, he stood up and slid his shorts off in one fluid move, exposing a gorgeous rounded tanned firm ass which perfectly balanced his proud cock. And now his hands were moving for the flimsy edge of his shirt and he started pulling it up from his trim waist and I could see the fabric straining across his massive chest and twisting in his armpits, his lats pushing out in freakish slabs under his arms. His forearms flexed and he pretended to struggle with the shirt–at least I think he was just pretending–and he chuckled as if embarrassed and looked at me and–oh fuck, my heart was thundering in my chest and my face was burning up and my cock was straining so hard as he said it–he said, “Mind giving me a hand here?”
I nodded dumbly and stood behind him, my knees barely able to support me, and I reached around that tight waist and grabbed the bottom of his shirt and the backs of my fingers were on fire touching his lower abs, the skin so hard and paper-thin over those unbelievable long slabs of muscle and I pulled up on his shirt and felt it tugging on his tanned skin, riding up those serrated obliques as he lifted his arms and I kept pulling it up and up, exposing his chiseled widening back, breathing in his warm sweaty manly scent. To get the shirt up over his arms I had to lean forward and, oh fuck, I accidentally leaned forward enough that my cockhead pushed into his ass, fuck fuck I just about bust a nut all over that hot brown ass it was so hard so hard and yet my cock pushed into that meaty backside and I couldn’t believe that two such hard things could feel so soft at the same time, and then the shirt slipped off and I staggered back and stammered out an apology.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, then turned around, letting me stare at those gorgeous sinewy pecs, round and defined all the way around, and that incredible shredded stomach, hard blocks of abs, with deep trenches scored between them, his vertical naval above firm muscle right down to his cock. And those arms! Baseball biceps corded like steel cables and massive forearms riddled with lightning bolt veins and such thin skin that moved like cellophane over the ridges and bulges beneath. And when my eyes dropped down, I saw that his heavy cock had drooled out another fat bead of precum. He followed my gaze down to it, and in one quick movement swiped it up and licked it off the palm of his hand. He winked with a devilish grin and swaggered out of the room, that gorgeous ass wobbling and his thick thighs rubbing against each other.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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