I swear, this really happened. I never thought I'd enjoy -- but I'm getting ahead of myself.

My name is Sean, and I'm a salesman. (God, that sounds like I'm in some 12-step group.) But seriously, I sell sporting goods -- fishing poles, football helmets, sneakers, you name it. Now I've always been straight as an arrow, but I also never turned down a free blowjob. I mean, if my own right hand can turn me on enough to make me come, I don't see any reason not to let somebody's mouth do the same thing, only better. Even if the somebody in question is a guy.

So one day I'm showing this one customer the swim gear at the store. It's a slow day, just me and Maggie, my boss, working that day, and she's off catching up on paperwork. I'm alone on the floor with this college kid. The whole time I'm showing him the equipment, I can tell it's not the equipment he's watching. Or at least, not the store's equipment. He's after mine.

Let him eat his heart out. This body of mine may not be perfect, but it's all mine, and every muscle on it was earned with lots of sweat equity. If he gets his jollies looking at it, well, hey, that's gotta be flattering, right? Even if I'd never lay hands on a guy myself.

So he takes a Speedo suit off the rack and says, "Are these as uncomfortable as they look?"

I laugh and shake my head. "Nah, they're not so bad. Just make sure you don't get one that's too tight, or you'll be singing soprano."

He laughs too, kind of ladylike, and I know for sure that I'm right about him then. He says, "Or one that's too loose, or your dick will fall out."

"Right."

"Same as for jockstraps, right? I mean, in high school I had to wear my brother's handmedown jock. All the elastic was gone out of it. I might as well have gone to gym class with nothing under my shorts. I was always flopping out."

He looks pointedly at me then. Here it comes, I'm thinking. "I imagine yours flops out sometimes here, don't you?"

I play it dumb. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he says, moving closer, "that between the size of your basket, and the fact that you obviously have no underwear on under those coach shorts of yours, you probably find it slipping out every now and then. Say, when you sit down."

"Every now and then," I laugh.

"Or when you get a hardon."

"Doesn't happen often."

"Mm," he says, almost batting his eyes at me. I can hardly keep from laughing. This guy is so obvious. "Pity."

"Not here, I mean," I say. In spite of myself, I can feel my face getting red.

"Still a pity," he says. "Would you like to change that?"

"How would I do that?"

"Would a blowjob do it for you?"

Now, I've been working here for like six months. Nobody, male or female, has come on to me so boldly. But I love blowjobs more than just about anything, and at the moment I don't have a steady girl or anything -- not even a steady fuck. So of course the idea appeals to me.

I nod. "Yeah, that'd do it. But I don't return the favor."

"Fair enough," he says. "Where shall we do it?"

I'm already getting hard, thinking of a wet, hot hole for my willie. "Um... changing room?"

"Perfect."

We're in the changing room in a second, with the slidebolt in place. Before I even know what's happening, he's on his knees in front of me. He has my shorts down around my ankles and my dick in his mouth. And let me tell you, this guy knows his stuff. I'm getting the best blowjob I've ever had.

In about two minutes flat I'm ready to cum, and I put my hand on his shoulder to let him know. He takes my dick out of his mouth and keeps jerking me off. After about three strokes I'm shooting my load all over his face and the front of his shirt.

I sit down on the little bench. He stays on his knees, leans back against the wall, and whips out his own dick, which is a couple of inches shorter than mine. He wipes off my cum with his hand and rubs it into his dick. It's kind of embarrassing to watch, but the room's too small to really look anywhere else, and it would be kind of rude to just walk out on him.

It takes him forever to shoot. When he does, it goes all over the place, including my legs and the inside of my shorts, which are still down around my ankles. He hardly misses a beat, and bends over to suck his cum out of my shorts.

"Great," I complain. "Now I have wet spots."

"Never fear, they'll dry fast," he says. "Besides, I have more." He gestures down at his shirt, which has a whole streak of wet spots from my cum, and a big spot at the bottom from his own.

He stands up, zips up, and is out of the changing room before I can even pull up my shorts. At the door of the changing room he says. "That was fun. Same time next week?"

"Uh... sure. What the hell."

I stand up, little drops of his cum still spotting my legs. I don't have anything to wipe it off with, so I just sorta like rub it into the hair on my legs so it won't be obvious. Then I pull up my shorts and get back on the floor before Maggie notices I'm missing.

So every week for like two years this guy comes back. If there are other customers, or if Maggie's around, he goes away before too long. But if I'm alone on the floor, then we duck into the changing room and he blows me, then uses my cum to jerk off. And that's about it. I don't even know his name, though he knows mine from the ID tag I wear. But it's the best, most regular orgasm I have, even when I'm getting it regularly from some girlfriend or other.

Then one day out of the blue he calls me up at the store. "Hello Sean, this is Michael."

"Michael?" I can't place the name.

"From the changing room?"

From across the store, Maggie's watching me while I talk. I can feel my face go red as I realize who this is. "Oh. Right."

"Listen, Sean, I graduate next week. I didn't want to go without... saying good-bye."

"Um... okay. Bye."

"No, no, Sean, I mean I want to give you one last blowjob. But I want this one to be ... uniquely memorable."

"Memorable? How so?"

"Oh, you'll see."

"Listen, I said I don't -- "

"You won't," he says. "You won't have to do a thing. Trust me. When do you get off (so to speak)?"

"Um, nine-thirty."

"Fine. You'll be home by ten, then, right? I'll see you there."

Ten? Oh shit, I think, I have a date tonight with Jacki. "Wait -- "

"Sean, don't feel paranoid. I'm not stalking you. As I said, I wanted to say goodbye. I looked you up in the phone book. You are Sean O'Herlihy, aren't you? 555-2639?"

"Right."

"It's settled, then. See you at ten, your place."

Dumbfounded, I hang up the phone. This fag knows where I live? Shit, he could blackmail me ... or worse.

But he's never done anything like that so far. He obviously lives for sex. Okay, I can deal. So I call up Jacki and cancel our date for tonight. She's a great lay, but this kid did say "especially memorable," and he's never let me down yet.

So at a little before ten, I get out of my car and head for my front porch. There's this guy -- Michael, I remind myself -- waiting on the porch swing, wearing a pair of nylon mesh shorts and one of those string tee muscle shirts. He's obviously half hard already. I wonder if he's been sitting here beating his meat on my front porch in full view of the neighbors.

"Hi."

"Hi, Sean." He stands up and picks up a small paper bag.

"What's in the bag?" I ask.

"You'll see."

"Just don't go pulling any shit," I say.

He smiles disarmingly. "Scout's honor."

Inside I offer him a beer. "Sure," he says. We sit on the couch in the living room.

"This is weird," I say.

"I can imagine. But don't worry. It's going to be fun."

"It better."

"Hey, have I ever disappointed you?"

I have to grin, and shake my head.

"Shall we go to the bedroom?"

"Man, I ain't gonna sleep with you -- "

"That's not what I'm suggesting. I just thought, rather than be cramped up on the couch -- or in the changing room -- it might be nice to have room to spread out."

This makes sense. So we go into the bedroom. I sit down on the edge of the bed and Michael sits beside me.

"Now," he says, "let's take off your clothes."

"Look, can't we just get this --"

"-- over with? But Sean, I told you, I want this to be memorable. And I'm sorry, but a quickie blowjob is no more memorable in your bedroom than in the changing room at your store. No, trust me. I won't steer you wrong. And if you dislike anything I'm doing, I'll stop."

"Promise?"

"Scout's honor."

So I sit there and let him pull my T-shirt over my head. "Oh," he says. "Oh my. Even better than I imagined." He touches my chest with his fingers, rubs one of my nipples.

Then he drops to the floor and unties my shoes, one at a time, and takes them off my feet. He slips his fingers inside my socks and sort of strokes my ankles as he slides the socks slowly off my feet.

He picks up one of my feet and sets it gently into his lap. I can feel his boner through his shorts, which makes me realize that I'm not even half hard yet. He picks up my other foot and starts to massage it. Then he takes my big toe in his mouth and starts to suck on it.

"Um... " I start to protest.

Without taking his mouth entirely off my toe, he says, "What? Does this feel bad?"

"No," I say.

He sucks away at the toe for a little while longer, while his hands massage my foot and move up my calf. Then he trades one foot for the other, and repeats the process.

This is not doing much for me. I just kind of lean back on the bed. Michael starts licking and kissing his way up the inside of my legs. When he gets to the hem of my shorts, he sort of snakes his tongue up there a little bit, then his fingers. Then he tugs on the shorts, and pulls them down, down, and off my legs altogether. Now I'm nude, and my dick is beginning at last to take a little interest in the proceedings. Michael, still kneeling on the floor, kisses his way back up the insides of my legs. He pushes his shoulders under my legs and takes my nuts in his mouth.

Nobody has ever done this to me. My cock is rock-hard in a second. "Oh man, suck me!"

"Uh-uh," he says, my left nut still in his mouth. "Not yet."

He sucks on my sac for a long time. His hands are stroking my legs. One of his fingers starts rubbing against my asshole.

No way, I'm thinking, no way is he getting in there. But right now I'm enjoying what he's doing, so I don't say anything.

Then he really freaks me out -- he starts licking my asshole! I mean, I never even heard of anybody doing that! The idea is kind of gross, but it feels so damn good, like sandpaper and velvet all at once, it's crazy..

"Holy shit," I moan.

"Oh, you're so right," he says. We both laugh for a second. Then he moves my legs up on the bed and crawls up between them. He pulls off his shorts, but not his muscle shirt. He sort of sits crosslegged with my legs on his shoulders. He bends over and keeps licking at my asshole and my nutsac. He never touches my dick, or anything above my waist, though his hands are all over my ass and thighs and calves and balls and hips.

At one point I try to put my hands on his head, but he grabs my wrist and move them aside. "No," he says. "You won't have to do anything." And he means it.

Still, I can't just lie there like a bump on a log. I'm getting too excited. So while he laps away at my crotch, my hands start rubbing my belly, my chest, my shoulders. I feel up my nipples and pecs as if they were a woman's -- though no woman I ever slept with had tits as big and firm as mine.

Then all of a sudden I realize that his tongue isn't just lapping at the outside of my asshole. He's poking it inside a little ways, feeling around with it. It feels incredible. He keeps this up for a long time, till I think I'm gonna go crazy. "I gotta cum, man, please let me cum!"

"Not yet," he says, between jabs of his tongue up my asshole. "Not memorable enough yet."

"It gets better?" This I cannot believe.

"Oh my yes," he murmurs. That's when I realize that it isn't always his tongue up my ass anymore. He's been poking a finger up there, not real far, but further than his tongue could possibly go.

I can't believe this is happening to me.. And he still hasn't touched my dick.

He works on me with his finger and his tongue for a long time, still stroking my legs and all. While his finger's rooting around, his tongue is all over my balls or on my inner thighs. Then something changes, and it takes me a second to realize he's got two fingers up my ass.

Two fingers in time give way to three, and then four. Can this really be happening?

"Now," I hear him murmur, "for the piece de resistance." He leans back, away from my ass. I hear him rustling around in the paper bag.

"Don't stop," I beg him.

"Oh, never fear," he says, "I have no intention of doing that."

I hear a tearing sound, and I look up. He's tearing open a condom.

"Oh no," I say, "oh no. No way."

He stops and kind of grins from between my legs. "Come on, Sean. Have I done anything yet that hasn't been wonderful for you?"

"No, man, but no way are you gonna rape me. Uh-uh. There's where I draw the line."

He goes ahead and puts the condom on himself. "Now Sean, who said anything about rape? I told you, I won't do anything you don't like. I meant it. Hasn't everything so far been enjoyable?"

He does have a point. So I say, "All right... but the second I say stop, you stop, you hear?"

"Agreed." Then he scoots up, lifting my legs, till I can feel the head of his dick up against my asshole. "Now, we'll take this nice and slow."

He starts up stroking my legs again, and rubbing my ass and thighs with his thumbs, and pushing gently against my asshole with his dick. I start rubbing against it, it feels so good. I realize now that what he's been doing all night has been sensitizing my ass, making it, rather than my dick, the center of my sex drive for now. I find myself missing the raspy, silky feel of his tongue, and trying to make his dick a substitute for that.

He reaches into the paper bag again and pulls out a little plastic squeeze bottle. He squeezes something out of it, onto his cock and my balls and my ass --

"Hey! That's cold!"

"So sorry... I always forget how much warmer my tongue is than room temperature," he says, smirking. He starts rubbing the head of his cock up and down against my asshole.

"Man," I say, "I don't understand it."

"What don't you understand, Sean?"

"Why that feels so goddamn good."

"It'll feel better real soon," he says.

Then he pushes hard, and I can feel the head begin to enter. It's not altogether a pleasant feeling, but I can't say it hurts.

"Now, relax. Push out, as if you were taking a crap. I know," he nods, "it sounds disgusting. But it works. Trust me. Have I led you wrong so far?"

I shake my head. "Not one bit." Here goes, then. I push, the way he told me to. I can feel it going a little deeper, and I panic, and clench up. It hurts all of a sudden.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"Push, Sean, push!"

I do, though the pain makes me want to tell him to pull out. But I push, and push, and he push, and push, and before I know it he's inside me, like maybe halfway. And it's not so bad.

Then he pushes a little further, and I feel like I've died and gone to heaven. Something inside me is sending the most unbelievable waves of pleasure shooting throughout my body. I guess I must have moaned or something, 'cause Michael is making these soothing sounds, still rubbing my legs.

Then he takes my dick into his mouth, and pushes in all the way, and I'm seeing stars. The whole room goes like white in my eyes. I'm shooting my load, and feeling his dick up my ass, and the combination is the most incredible, wonderful, fantastic feeling I've ever felt.

But it's not over -- after I'm done coming, Michael leans back with this goofy grin on his face. He pulls out of my ass a little ways, just enough to allow him to shift position. He gets his legs under him, and leans forward till he's lying on top of me. He pumps in and out, in and out, and I can feel every inch of him, chest and arms and legs and (most of all) cock.

I can't believe I'm still hard, after the way I came. But I am, and the feel of his dick inside me and the feel of mine pressed between his belly and mine is wonderful. After about ten or twelve strokes, I feel myself shooting again, much more gently this time. Michael keeps pumping away, his body smearing my sperm all over mine, till at last he bites down on my shoulder and tenses up. His whole body spasms violently about five times. Then he collapses on top of me, and his teeth let up from my shoulder.

After a little while he rolls off me.

"Memorable?" he asks, still gasping.

I can't help laughing. "Memorable."

"You know," he says, "I didn't exactly tell you the truth."

"Oh?"

"I said I'm graduating, and that's true. But I'm not moving away, Sean. This isn't really goodbye."

I laughed again. "Well," I said, "then it's about the best fucking hello I've ever had."