Heavy Metal Erotica: Hell Freezes Over

My buddy Rob and I had been in this band together for over 10 years, goading and daring each other into lots of stupid boy-type stuff. I recall one warm summer night while on tour, I dared him to go out on the stage with his fly open and his dick hanging out. We just did stupid shit like that when the day on the road got boring.

I often got shit from my band mates about how I acted like a sissy... like a fucking girl! So I dry humped you on stage during Mayhem, I was being a "rock star" and those hot bitches you guys fucked later didn't seem to mind! And quit fucking dissing my Manowar posters by my bunk... that band is more metal than half the fuckers we see on tour, I'm supporting real metal talent.

So it's Friday night, tours complete and were back home, we decided to catch a Cavs game. As we walked in the doors of the arena, I said to Rob: "Hang on a second, I need to see a man about a dog" and headed towards the Men's Room.

Following, Rob said "Yeah, I guess I'll drain the one-eyed monster, too." When we rounded the privacy baffle inside the door, Rob spotted his buddy Phil standing at one of the floor-style urinals, taking a lengthy piss. We each stepped up to a urinal, leaving several empty ones between each other and Phil, as we weren't fags.

Phil commented that he was draining off some of the beer he'd been drinking all afternoon. This caught our attention, and Phil explained "Yeah, we have the bus loaded with beer and Jaegermeister, dude. We start down to Texas tonight. Meet me in the parking lot at the mid-game break, and we can all have a some drinks and shoot some shit."

So, at the half-way point of the game, we headed out to the parking lot, and each swigged down a couple of beers and shots. We each took a quick piss on the tire of the car next to Phil's bus, so we could avoid the typical lines in the Men's Room. We then headed back into the gym to see the rest of the game.

We headed back to Rob's place after the game. On the way there, we picked up some stogies and some beer... figured we would hang out and just relax... agreeing on the need to invite some girls over to entertain us.

So, there we were late at night, two horny fuckers, sucking on cheap cigars and drinking beers. We were swapping lies about the sexual escapades we WOULD be pulling off, if only we had a willing partner. [I was honestly happy those girls he called didn't show! Skank ass band sluts trying to get a VIP made my stomach turn.]

About every 15 minutes one of us would need to take a wiz, and would usually be followed into the bathroom by the other guy. There we would stand on either side of the toilet, dicks hanging out, and drain our snakes. We'd make derogatory remarks to each other [like guys often do]: "Man, I've never seen such an ugly little pecker. Keep that son-of-a-bitch away from me!"



"Oh yeah? Well if my pecker was in your mouth you wouldn't have to be looking at it!"

"It'll be a cold day in Hell before that little weenie is EVER in my mouth!"

"You'll think 'little weenie' when my 7 inch stiff bone is ramming your tonsils, and you're gasping for air 'cuz your whole mouth is filled with my hot meat!"

"Yeah, right. That'll be the day" ...

Anyhow, somewhere along the line we decided to break out the poker chips, and play a cut-throat game of poker. In our poker game, I quickly fell behind, and was secretly thankful we were just playing with chips. We played cards, drank beer, smoked stogies, and pissed for quite awhile.

As my fortunes went from bad to dismal, Rob kept up a barrage of how he was whipping my ass, I played like a pussy, he wished we had bet a case of beer on this poker game, etc. etc.

I was pretty buzzed from the beer [and stogies too!], and tired of hearing Rob's yapping. So in a foolhardy moment, while we were once again pissing together, I said "Well Rob ... if you've got the balls to bet a blow-job on who goes broke first, let's do it." As I suspected, THAT shut him up.

He thought about it as we both finished pissing yet again. We stood there with our dicks in our hands. He finally scratched his balls, and said "You've got a bet you cock-sucker!" Being real men, we looked each other in the eye and shook hands, pulled our equipment back into our pants, zipped up, and headed back to the game.

Well, the miracle I needed to win the game didn't occur, and Rob soon had me crying 'uncle.' Rob was grinning from ear to ear, and I started back-pedaling with rather lame ploys like: "We didn't say WHEN the blow-job would happen." I was hoping to somehow save face with general bullshit like that.

Rob now subtly switched to psychological type torment: "I KNOW you're interested in my cock, Mark. I've seen you checking it out when we're both at the pisser, and on the tour bus. You KNOW you want your tonsils to meet my dick-head. You KNOW that tonight's the night you get to fulfill those dreams about servicing my big cock. You KNOW you want it. You KNOW you're going to become a dick-smoker tonight, Mark. In fact, I'm going to get you a little incentive." With that statement Rob left the room for a minute, and came back with 2 big fat Maduro cigars. "I lifted these from Jim's stash. I'm going to light mine up now and enjoy it while you get to enjoy smoking my cock. You can have your Maduro when you get through."

The next time I had to piss, Rob followed me into the bathroom and closed the door. We stood at the toilet, and when we were done pissing we just stood there. We stood there with our peckers hanging out, and it seemed as if my resistance was sort of worn down. I asked Rob, "Where and when is it you THINK this cock-servicing is going to occur?"

He replied "Right here. Right now. I want to watch in that mirror." He gestured to a full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. [we had been so intent on proving our maleness to each other that we'd never bothered shutting the bathroom door ... after all, what's the point when the only two people in the house are standing together purposely watching each other piss? ... I had no idea that the mirror was even there].



I told him, "shake all the piss off of that ugly mother-fucker."

He smiled and said "Like I told you Mark, when my pecker is jammed down your throat, and my balls are slapping against your chin, you won't be worried about how ugly my dong is." With that Rob snapped his fingers and said "Now get on your knees bitch-boy, and let's get you indoctrinated into the ancient art of cock-sucking."

Maybe the buzz from the cigars, combined with about 10 cans of beer and 5 jaeger shots had me all jammed-up or something, but Rob taking this Alpha-Male dominant tone struck a receptive note within me. I slowly sank to my knees in front of him. He pulled down his pants and boxers, and the entire 4 inches of his circumcised cock flopped into view, hanging in front of his big, hairy nut-sac. I knelt there, mesmerized by the one-eyed monster that was now staring me in the face. I of course had seen that ugly fucker before, but never just inches from my face in a situation like this. In one last ditch effort to avoid sucking his dick, [and preserve some dignity and sanity] I told him "I'm not going to suck any tiny, limp, droopy dick!"

Rob just laughed, saying "It won't be limp once you start attending to it". He then took a drag on the cigar he was smoking. He snapped his fingers again and in the Alpha-Male persona snarled "The time has come, Mark!! Start sucking my dick now!"

I hesitantly bobbled his nuts in my hand, and licked the shaft of his sinewy tool, carefully keeping my mouth away from the bullet-shaped head. Just to be obstinate I looked up at his face and said "There. All done!" As he had predicted [no surprise here], with even this small bit of attention to his male unit he instantly sprung a boner, and was sporting a stiff, respectable full 7 inches.

Once again I heard the finger snap, and Alpha-Male Rob demanded "Open wide, cock-sucker!" I obeyed. For the first time ever a big, powerful, ugly male organ passed my lips and kept right on going until the bullet-head was rammed against the back of my throat. My nostrils were assaulted by the earthy male ball-sweat smell of Rob's crotch. His wiry pubic hair was tickling my nose, and I might have sneezed, but I was gagging on the head of his stiff, hot monster. I truly was now and forevermore, a cock-sucker. I felt like crying, while Rob started laughing, telling me, "I knew you could suck cock, Mark!".

I started rhythmically bobbing my head up and down on his thin but powerful rod, while laving the firm [yet slightly spongy] bullet-shaped head with my tongue on each back stroke. I continued to fondle his nuts. I was about to once again try to regain a TINY bit of my independence, self-respect and male dignity by announcing "I'm not going to let you cum in my mouth."

However, right about then Mark had other plans. He grabbed the hair at the back of my head and thrust his hips forward, thereby jamming his penis deep down my throat. I felt his cock-head expand, his balls and scrotum pull up and tighten, as his fuck-pole spasmed and my mouth was flooded with his warm seed. He kept his throbbing tool buried deep in my throat, as he pumped his bitter jism into me. He was grinning like the cat who just ate the canary; a very happy and satisfied cat! He used his free hand to massage my throat so I was forced to swallow his sticky splooge but I didn't mind.

He slowly withdrew his softening pecker, and cleaned his now tender male equipment off with a damp washcloth. I regained my senses, got to my feet, and demanded the promised Maduro and another beer, anything to wash that wretched taste from my mouth.

I started trying to coerce Rob into returning the favor, saying "Hey! It wasn't that bad! Why don't you give it a try?" He wasn't buying it, and I couldn't even talk him into giving me a hand-job. I was hoping if he'd start playing with my rod, he'd eventually 'go oral' on me. Man, I really needed to relieve the pressure in my own stiff, throbbing tool.

He laughed and said "You're dreaming if you think I'm ever even going to TOUCH that nasty-looking fuck-stick of yours, buddy. Don't even THINK about it, 'coz it's never going to happen."

The rest of the weekend passed with me trying to talk Rob into servicing me, which was always met with "No way. I'm not a cock-sucker." He continued trying to get me back on my knees to do him again, "Hell, Mark. You're already a cock-sucker, why not try it again, and learn to enjoy it? You'd make us both happy!"

We were at a stand-off. I had no idea that the seeds of change had already been sown [by me allowing him to thrust his ugly penis down my throat] and that big changes to our friendship were already taking root, deep in my soul.

DISCLAIMER: (Any similarities or names, places is purely coincidental. This is a completely fictional story with fictional characters in made up places. The events about never happened. If you think the pictures look like someone you know, they don't. We suck at art and could never make a picture look like what we attempt.)

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Tags:  Metal Erotica, erotica, gay, penis 

Brootal Brandy    September 15, 2010