Gabriel and the Devil Read online

  I’d begun to reveal a very pink part of his length and his knob had barely snagged his waistband. With one final tug, I came to the end of his very long cock and it sprang free, slapping against his stomach. I was afraid he’d cum, but it was just a long string of clear precum that got flung nearly up to his sternum.

  He was long and thick and hard, but it still looked like a dick to me. He lifted his legs as I pulled his briefs the rest of the way off.

  “So, what’s the big deal?” I asked.

  “Stroke it slowly,” he instructed.

  I don’t know why, I didn’t even hesitate to grab him. His cock looked beautiful to me, and I wanted it in my hand. As I gripped it I felt how hot it was—hotter than the rest of his skin. There was a hard shaft inside, but the skin outside was loose. As I slowly stroked him, the skin kept coming up until it nearly covered the head.

  “Wow! You’ve got a lot of skin,” I told him.

  “Foreskin,” he corrected.

  I kept stroking him slowly back down and then up again.

  “The foreskin keeps the head covered when you’re not hard. That protects the head, but it makes it really sensitive when it’s exposed. When you’re cut, the head is always exposed so it loses some of its sensitivity.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Maybe next time.”

  “Huh?”

  He laughed and I finally got the joke.

  “Some sadistic priest or rabbi figured that if boys were circumcised they wouldn’t jerk off so much.”

  “Is it true?”

  “It’s true that, regardless of any other reason they give, that’s the main reason why circumcisions started. But, to the best of my knowledge, it’s not true that it stops boys from jerking off. They’d have to cut the whole thing off.”

  I laughed nervously. Once I’d figured out how to jerk off, I did it at least once a day. For the longest time I felt guilty afterward, but that guilt was long gone—until I got to confession anyway. Then I had to admit to my sin.

  “Can I keep doing this?” I asked, still slowly stroking his cock.

  “You like it?” he asked through his devilish grin.

  I felt my face heat up. I knew I was bright red.

  “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I like it when you do it. Can I show you how good it feels?”

  If it was possible, I turned redder.

  “No. I just want to watch you first. Is that okay?”

  He ran his hands down the outside of each of my thighs as I knelt between his legs. His touch made me shiver.

  “You’re in charge. I’m at your mercy. But”—he slid his hands up to my waistband—“can I look at you while you do it?”

  I rolled my eyes like it was a big imposition. Still, I let go of his dick long enough to slip out of my briefs and get back into position.

  “Nice!”

  He was staring at my hard cock pointed straight up to my navel.

  “You’re so smooth,” he pointed out. His hands drifted from my outer thighs to my inner thighs.

  I closed my eyes and moaned. Then I felt his hands resting and his thumbs probing the base of my cock.

  “I can see that you’re a natural blond. Do you trim?”

  I blushed again. “No. My hair just doesn’t grow as much as yours,” I admitted.

  “Well, I like it.”

  I was tired of all the embarrassing talk. It was time to make him shut up. I’d been stroking him slowly at first but began to pick up my speed. It was working because he stopped talking and closed his eyes. His jaw went slack. I kept up my steady pace, and his hands moved from my thighs back to gripping the bedspread. It didn’t take long before his hips bucked. He reached out his hand to take over, but I pushed it away.

  “Sorry, I’m in control here. You’re at my mercy.”

  His moans turned to whimpers, and his breathing was fast and ragged.

  I kept going with my steady pace.

  “No,” he gasped out. “Shit. Fuck. If you don’t stop, I’m gonna cum!”

  He’d let go of the bedspread and his arms were flailing as he struggled to keep from grabbing his own cock and taking over.

  “Oh fuck!”

  His balls had drawn up tight, and his entire body spasmed. His cock felt like it had grown even larger and stiffer in my hand. I could feel the first pulse as a long rope of cum shot out over his head to hit the headboard. Some caught his hair before the second shot pulsed out, hitting his cheek and fuzzy chin. While that volley was still landing on his neck and chest, another shot came out, covering his chest. Two or three more shots fired in rapid succession. I’d never seen so much cum before.

  He was moaning, whimpering, and writhing under my steady stoking grip. The long forceful shots had stopped, but I was able to pump out even more until his entire belly was coated.

  He convulsed. “No, stop,” he gasped. “It’s too sensitive. Stop.”

  I was merciless. I kept going until his cock finally started to soften. It didn’t soften too much. In fact, it was probably still as long and hard as it had been when we began. I let go. My hand was covered in his cum, but it didn’t seem as gross to me as my own usually did after I’d finished. I liked the warm, slimy feeling as it ran down the back of my hand.

  He was breathing heavily from his mouth, but soon his breathing slowed. He opened his eyes to admire my handiwork.

  “Shit. Would you look at the mess you caused?” he asked me.

  “Do you always cum so much?” I asked.

  “Only when I’ve been worked up since Wednesday without release—left with blue balls. Only when I’ve just finished more than two hours of a make-out session with the hottest guy I’ve ever met.”

  Chapter Six

  HE WAS covered in the whitest globs of cum that only looked whiter against his olive skin. He ran a finger across his goatee-covered chin to catch a big drip, and then he stuck his finger in his mouth.

  “Umm, not bad. Are you ready for your turn, Angel?” he asked me.

  I was hesitant and I needed an excuse to stall.

  “Do you want me to get you a towel or something?”

  He wiped another glob from his chest before putting it in his mouth too.

  “Nope, I’m good. And it looks like you’re ready to go too.” He nodded at my hard-on.

  When I looked down, my entire length was soaked and glistening with my own precum. He reached out and gently slid his thumb and forefinger up my shaft. My eyes closed as I shivered at the sensation.

  “You won’t be able to stay sitting up if that’s the reaction you have from one little touch.”

  I opened my eyes to watch him sit up. His thick cum was mostly still stuck in place although some started to run a bit when he moved around. He placed a hand on each of my shoulders and lowered me onto my back. He tossed a pillow behind my head and then rearranged himself until he was straddling my legs. His balls bounced against mine.

  He took my cock in his hand and maneuvered his own so we were touching. He was still hard. Taking both of our cocks in one hand, he stroked us together. The sensation was incredible. Between my precum and his cum, we had a slick lubricant that only increased the pleasure.

  My breathing stuttered as he slowly jerked us both. Occasionally he’d run his slick palm across the tip of my cockhead and I’d let out an involuntary gasp. Just as I’d done with him, he seemed determined to inflict me with the most delicious torture. And just as I’d done, he refused to let me take over for myself.

  “I’ll let you know when the time is right,” he told me. “You won’t cum until I’m ready for you to.”

  He’d let go of his own cock and focused solely on mine. My eyes were closed when I felt something strange and wet on my scrotum. I opened my eyes to see that he was licking my balls. As soon as he had my attention, he sucked one completely into his mouth. I thought I was going to shoot right then, but he sensed it and stopped stroking while my cock pulsed in a dry orgasm. Once the pulsing stopped, he licke
d up the shaft just shy of the head and then he went back to stroking.

  Marcello had certainly earned his position as a devil. He knew every trick of torture to keep me on the edge without release. I lost count as to how many times I almost came, and once a little spurt did shoot out, but he released me immediately and told me, “Not yet, Angel.” He had to grab both of my wrists to keep me from finishing the job that time.

  “I told you that I’d let you know when it was time. This isn’t a sprint; it’s a marathon and I’ve got the baton.”

  “Please, Marcello, let me cum,” I begged. “I can’t take much more.”

  “Then I won’t make you wait too much more,” he promised.

  He picked up the pace a bit—stroking me a little faster with a bit tighter grip. He took my balls in one hand and gave them a gentle squeeze. The sensation started to build up from somewhere deep inside of me, and I wasn’t going to warn him that I was ready to shoot because I didn’t want him slowing me down again.

  “So, are you ready, Angel?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  He slowed his rhythm.

  “I asked, are you ready, Angel?”

  My voice came out in a whimper. “Yes. Yes, I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “I’m ready to cum.”

  “Ready to fucking cum?”

  My entire body began to convulse. With him sitting on my legs, I was forced to crunch my abs. Still I managed to grunt, “I’m ready to fucking cum.”

  The first spasm actually stung from holding it in so long. It was so powerful and so intense that it splatted a hot load right on my nose and mouth. More hot spunk shot out in one shuddering, mind-blowing convulsion after another. Marcello never stopped stroking nor changed his rhythm as I rode the waves of pleasure. My chest and stomach were covered in warm puddles as I let out a heavy sigh of bliss. My head rested back into the pillow while Marcello continued to pump and squeeze out the final dregs.

  “Not bad, Angel. You shot a pretty big load yourself. The average guy shoots about a teaspoon of cum, but it looks like you’ve got a tablespoonful here.”

  I tilted my head up to admire my load. It was one of the biggest I’d ever shot, but Marcello was still the winner judging by what was now dripping from his chest.

  “In that case, you shot at least two tablespoons,” I concluded.

  He ran a finger across my abs until he’d scooped up a pretty big glob. Then he stuck his finger in his mouth.

  “Umm. I could get used to the taste of you, Angel.”

  “Isn’t it gross?”

  “No. It’s great. Haven’t you ever tasted your own cum?”

  “Na-uh.” But I admitted, “It always seems like a good idea before I start jerking off, but once I’m done the desire goes away.”

  “But not this time, right?”

  I looked at him warily.

  “All you have to do is lick your upper lip. You have a glob there.”

  I could still feel the warmth.

  He got a fingerful out of my belly button too.

  “You lick that and I’ll give you this to wash it down.”

  I gave him a lopsided grin. He had a way of persuading me to do just about anything. I licked my lip. It was salty and slimy, but not entirely bad. I opened my mouth to comment, but he stuck another fingerful in.

  “Yummy, right?”

  “It’s really not as bad as I thought it would be.”

  “That’s a ringing endorsement. I’ve got some cranberry juice in the refrigerator. Cranberry juice and pineapple juice are both good for making your cum sweeter. If I’d had any idea that we’d really end up like this, I would have loaded up on the juice and water, cut out my caffeine and the spicy foods.”

  Marcello leaned forward and scooped me into his arms, rolling me on top of him. The cum that covered us both commingled into a slippery glaze between us as Marcello began to first lick the cum that was left on my face and then kiss me deep, hard, and passionately.

  Our mouths were open as we probed each other’s with our tongues. His strong embrace and passionate kisses made me feel safe and secure and loved. But I was feeling something else too.

  He pulled his lips off mine and whispered in my ear, “How are you feeling now, Angel?”

  I hated to tell him the truth, but I couldn’t lie. “A little guilty, actually. We shouldn’t have done that.”

  He kissed my cheek.

  “I was afraid you might feel that way after it was over. That’s why I let you jerk me off first. I didn’t want you to cum and go. I wanted this time with you.”

  I thought about it. Even though I’d instigated as much of what we’d done as he had, he was probably right. I might have bolted out of shame the moment I came.

  His hot breath still blew quietly. “We didn’t really do anything wrong, you know.”

  I pulled my face away from him. “How do you figure?”

  “It’s like I said before: all guys jerk off. You don’t even have to confess that.”

  “And that’s all that this was? A couple of guys jerking off?” I’d been used.

  “Technically, yes. But if you’re asking what it meant to me—well, maybe it was more than that.”

  “Really?” I huffed. I hadn’t cooled down, and I wasn’t sure that I believed him.

  He kissed me hard and he didn’t stop until I couldn’t breathe anymore, and I had to pull away.

  “Angel, this wasn’t just about a couple of guys getting off. For me this was my opportunity to make love to you. I may never get another chance, and I wanted it to be as special for you as it was for me. I didn’t want you to feel pressured because I’m hoping that you’ll come back for more. I tried to minimize it so you might not feel so guilty and you’d be willing to give me another chance. I love you, Angel. I’m still hoping you’ll give me your eternal soul.” Then he sounded a bit dejected. “But maybe I’m asking too much.”

  I looked deeply into his eyes, searching for any hint that this was just some sort of trick. But all I could see through the glistening was sincerity.

  I kissed him back. “I’d given up my eternal soul the moment I walked into this room. If you ever leave me, you’ll be taking my soul with you.”

  WE DOZED for a while, wrapped up in each other’s arms. And when we awoke we were glued together with cum. It was painful and funny as we carefully peeled apart—well, mostly painful for Marcello since he was the hairy guy. It was painful for me too, but it was really funny to watch Marcello grimace in pain.

  We showered together and got a chance to reexplore every inch of the other’s body. We lathered, kissed, rinsed, and repeated until we were both shriveled—and spent again.

  Marcello had a frozen pizza, so we didn’t have to go out to eat. We drank apple juice mixed with cranberry juice and had started off waiting for the pizza to cook while still wrapped with towels around our waists. But by the time the timer chimed, we were locked together, naked and kissing.

  We ate naked on the bed and fed each other pizza. Whatever didn’t make it into the other guy’s mouth—and we made sure that plenty didn’t—the guy doing the feeding licked off. Before we were through eating, we’d both cum again.

  I wasn’t sure if I could take another shower after that. My balls ached from coming three times in one day. But Marcello promised we’d just wash each other off, and other than a lot of kissing, that’s exactly what we did.

  It was after ten by the time we crawled back into bed. I barely protested Marcello’s suggestion that I sleep over. I wasn’t just tired—I didn’t want to be apart from him for a moment. And I wasn’t. We slept wrapped in each other’s arms taking turns being the big spoon. We both fell in and out of sleep and took the opportunities to plant soft kisses on our sleeping partner—unless he awoke—then passionate kisses continued to exhaustion.

  On Monday, the thirteenth, I awoke in room thirteen naked and next to a naked devil. Surprisingly it didn’t feel like my unlucky day. My mornin
g classes started at nine. We woke at six, gave each other yet another hand job, and then ate breakfast naked. After a shower and cumming again, I dressed quickly in my wrinkled church clothes and ran back to my dorm room to change and grab my books. I was ten minutes late for class, and the professor was not happy as I slinked in.

  It didn’t surprise me to see Marcello waiting for me at lunch, wearing his devilish grin. I blushed at the sight of him, certain that everyone would know what we’d been up to. We made no agreement to meet after my classes were over, and I was resigned to my old routine of homework in the library and then heading to my lonely dorm room. But just as I was wrapping up my homework, Marcello appeared out of nowhere and pulled me behind the stacks to make out before he asked me to come home with him. He didn’t have to ask twice.

  That became our routine for the week. It was only broken on Wednesday, when it was time to go back to church for evening mass. Marcello joined me, and for a devil he did his best to look angelic when Father Christopher gave him communion. I couldn’t meet Father’s eyes. I was certain he knew just what we were up to. Can’t a priest spot sin from a mile away?

  While we walked back to Marcello’s apartment—there was never a question as to where we were headed—I needed to ask him a question.

  “We have all of next week off for the Thanksgiving break. Um… I was wondering…. But, if you’re busy… I understand. Forget that I even asked.”

  “You didn’t ask me anything, Gabriel. What did you want to ask?”

  “It’s stupid. I’m sure that you have to go out and find more souls.”

  He chuckled. “I already have yours. I don’t need any more than that.”

  I let out a sigh of relief, but I still had to get up the nerve to ask my question.

  “Will you come to Thanksgiving with me? I know that you’re probably busy. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

  He stopped me on the street and pulled me into a hug. I didn’t even worry about anyone else seeing us as he whispered in my ear, “I’d love to come to Thanksgiving with you.” I thought I heard a hint of deep emotion in his acceptance.