Part 1 - First Touch
#1 of Wanting Hammond
I'd always been shy about my sexuality. Then again, I'd never truly understood it. To this day, I still haven't the slightest idea about what it means to be me. All my life, I'd lusted for other males, but in the end, I only really loved females emotionally. I never wanted anything other than sex from guys. Until I fell in love.
I had always liked to think I was clever, or smart; my grades pretty much reflected that as well. Yet I always lacked the necessary self-confidence to attempt the seduction of the one man I ever felt I truly needed. That's why I can't help but feel like it was meant to happen the way it did.
My memoir will use only surnames to protect association.
I am Addams. I never had perfect grades, but they were pretty damn close. I never had a perfect body... and there's no justification I can make for that. I'm a lion, but apparently the concept of pride is just a stereotype. Unless it's pride that makes my mane never look right, my body seem skinny and awkward, and my penis too small. Though, I've never had the chance to compare. Well, there was that Comstock who always changed his underwear for gym class, but I never had the courage to glance over. Nevertheless five inches certainly stands deep in the shadow of what I always thought was normal.
I don't know if I was right, because the one who was my first has been my only all these years, and porn isn't a good reference, but I'm certainly shadowed by him. In more ways than one, too; I'm a measly 5'6", but the one I lusted after was at least 6'7". It's no wonder; even if he shared my unflattering dick-to-body proportions, his penis would still be large enough for me.
It all started with my Junior year math class in high school. I can still picture exactly where we sat in comparison to each other. I, Addams, sat against the far-right wall in the back row, stuck with the girls who would gossip about nonsense and copy my work. The desks were separated into five columns, each two desks thick, each with four rows. The in the column next to ours, on the right-side desk of the third row back sat Hammond. He had taken the watered-down version of this course last year, and now as a Senior, he was taking on the full class.
Oh, Hammond. What a glory he was. Any pride I lacked in myself as a lion was given to that lovely bear. There wasn't a gut on him. He played football, and he was a wrestler too. And was all muscle. All 6 feet, 7 inches of him was pure muscle. I hated the winter months of that year, because he always wore that damn varsity jacket and long pants. How cruel it was to live through September able to spend the entire class glancing at those perfect calves, those perfect arms, and even his back, the space between his exposed boxers and the hem of his shirt, which lifted as he bent down to sneak in a text message. To think it had to end come the frigid mid-October. It still makes my mouth twitch to think about.
I muddled through the cold months of October, November, December, and January with nothing but my memories of Hammond to please me. Then February came. The first was our first day back for the second half of the school year, and with it came some schedule changes. Mine remained exactly the same, and it seemed as if everyone else's did, too. No, Hammond didn't get taken from my Math class. I would have been devastated to only have Band and Choir classes to ogle. I wouldn't have been able to hide it if I was deprived. The schedule change of most significance to me did belong to him, however. Hammond was in my P.E. class. The storm cloud to that silver lining, however, was that his locker was on the other side of the row as mine. An entire row of lockers separated him from me. My optimism tells me it was for the best. I would have blown my cover and tried to grope him eventually. And with a masculine bear like him, I wasn't likely to live through that.
I didn't get to see him outside the locker room, either, because I did aerobics. Hell if I was going to play dodgeball, especially with the immature guys that lined our school like stale icing on a failed cake. Still, the proximity I had at brief intervals throughout the day drove me insane. Every time I jacked off, Hammond was my focus. My friend had once told me, "You never want to go into the locker room while players are changing during football season or wrestling season. I went through there once because the other door was locked, and I'll never be the same." That made my imagination boil. Just imagining Hammond in nothing but a jockstrap, dropping a sock, bending over to pick it up. I was sure his ass was fantastic. It had to be nice and round to carry his clothes the way they did. His junk was probably huge, too, so a view from the back like that, with his balls almost bursting from the cup of that garment, his perfect asshole inadvertently in plain sight... I had a lot of great orgasms from that fantasy.
What was I to do, though? He was straight, there was no doubt at all about that. Straight as a fucking arrow. To seal the deal, he participated in that typical straight-male game of touch-each-other-and-act-gay-because-everyone-knows-you're-not. That was a damper, to say the least. What's more, despite the proximity, I'd only ever said three or four sentences tops to him in my life, and of those I can only recall one response. There was no way to seduce a straight guy who didn't know you.
Why I was late for gym class that day, I don't know. I was there for attendance, but I still had to change afterward, after everyone darted off to the gym to throw rubber balls at each other's faces. I didn't even notice that Hammond came in just shortly after I did. I didn't know he was even in the locker room while I was changing, until he asked me, "Hey, man, do you have one of those Tide stick things?"
The question caught me off-guard. Not only was it coming from someone I'd rarely spoken to, someone I didn't know was there, but it was coming from the man I lusted for, who was standing wearing only his underwear and his gym shorts. That, and the question was completely and utterly random.
"Um," I managed to say. I was doing a good job of keeping my eyes on his face. It was just as gorgeous as the rest of him.
"Yeah, I know we don't even know each other, so asking to use your stuff might be pretty weird, but..."
"It's not weird, but I don't have one. Sorry." I was composing myself, though my mouth was a bit dry.
"Oh. You just sit with the girls in Math, so I thought maybe you had one. I just spilled some of that gross marinara sauce from lunch on my shirt," Hammond explained. "Sorry to bother you while you're in your underwear, dude."
I considered the logic behind his first sentence. Was it that he thought my proximity to girls made me gay, so naturally I carried portable laundry products? Or was I jumping to conclusions? Then the second part of it hit me. I was in my underwear. That wouldn't bother me, were it anyone but Hammond pointing it out.
"It-- it's no problem. Sorry I couldn't-- help," I said, flustered to be half-naked in front of this dream guy and unable to locate the gym clothes I was grasping in my right hand.
"What are you doing?" Hammond asked, stepping forward. "If you can't find your clothes, you're holding them."
Still not thinking, I raised my left hand to check it. I hadn't noticed that he had stepped forward, and my hand passed through his groin to get to my eye level. It was a total accident, but I had totally just touched Hammond's junk. The room was still and silent, with him thinking whatever he was thinking, and me in my silent combination of bliss and fear of what was to come. But I could have sworn I heard him make a slight "mmm" of pleasure when it happened.
"Why'd you just touch my balls?" Hammond accused.
"I didn't know you were there!" I blurted out.
"Well, you're gonna get it for that," he said.
I turned and braced myself to be hit, but instead felt him reach around. I felt his large hand grasp my package firmly, give it a single shake, and drop it.
"What goes around comes around," he said. His tone implied that he thought he'd embarrassed me. In all reality, he did. But I was more in euphoria than anything. Suddenly, my groin felt a little chillier.
"You got a boner!" Hammond nearly shouted in disbelief, addressing my rock-solid dick poking through the slit in my boxers.
"I--" I began to protest, then noticed he had a semi-hard dick underneath his shorts. "Well, looks like you had the same thing happen to you!"
"I haven't jacked off in days. Anything would give me a boner," he said, deadpan.
"Well, I haven't either," I lied. In fact, I had actually shot a load the previous night to the thought of Hammond's large, beautiful feet.
I was reliving that fantasy, when suddenly a new, more delicious reality was striking. Hammond was on the bench, pulling his underwear and shorts off his ankle. I took a quick glance to his penis, and it lived up to my imagination. It was at least nine inches long hard, and at least an inch and a quarter in diameter. It was gorgeous, and his balls were positively huge, which was my biggest delight.
"What are you--" I choked.
"You reminded me how much I need to let one out. People do it in here all the time; don't act like you don't know that. I mean, I've never done it and normally never would, but as long as you're not gay or anything, I don't need to..."
Wordlessly, I took my underwear off and sat next to him, extremely careful not to let our bodies touch. I didn't know anything about jacking off with straight guys and that was the safest bet for me.
"Wait, I didn't invite you. You gay?" he asked me.
"No, but I thought as long as you're going to jack off next to my locker while I change, I should have the liberty of getting a good-- ohhh," I said, interrupted by my own pleasure. Jacking off was great, but I'd never thought of doing it with another person there, especially not my god-on-earth, Hammond. Just the fact that he was there made it more intense than I've ever felt, and I didn't dare look for the fear of cumming on the spot.
"Fine," he said, agreeing rather easily. We stayed like that, almost back to back, for about three minutes before I decided. I needed to do something now or I'd regret it forever. I just needed to make it feel so good he wouldn't get mad and beat me up or leave. I reached over when he started to close his eyes in pleasure, and waited for him to let go of his dick. He was using the stop-and-go technique, that made it easy. I firmly grabbed his dick and started pumping like mad. His eyes flew open.
"DUDE WHAT THE FUCK?!" Hammond yelled. He started to stand up, and I acted immediately. I took my free hand's index finger and reached between his legs to his rear. Lightly touching his asshole, I tickled across his perineum to his balls, circled them, and then tugged down lightly. He moaned loudly, and buckled, sitting back down on the bench.
"Don't be mad at me, please," I begged.
"I'm not gay, man," Hammond protested. "But my god, that feels amazing, so I guess I'll let you..." He closed his eyes and trailed off, his now-free hand wandering to my crotch and kneading at my genitals. It was a bliss I thought I'd never know.
"Let me do what I want here, and don't tell anybody, and it will be the best thing you've ever felt," I whispered. My heart was pounding, and i'm sure he could feel the quickened pulse in my dick, but I knew I had to stay calm and confident if I was going to make this work.
"Mmmuhh," Hammond moaned as I worked my hands. I don't think he even knew that he was rubbing my scrotum. Carefully, I lowered my head and licked the head of his cock. Hammond's eyes opened again, half-squinting, and he smirked. "If you think you're getting any of that in return, yours are getting ripped off." He enforced this by squeezing my genitals, almost painfully.
In truth, I didn't want a blow job. The idea of receiving one was not nearly as attractive as giving one. "I don't want anything in retu--" I couldn't finish my sentence, as Hammond pushed my head down on his dick, forcing me to engulf the entire nine inches at once. I panicked. I always had a terribly sensitive gag reflex. I prevented myself from gagging by repeatedly swallowing with the dick in my throat. As soon as Hammond removed his hand, I came up, swallowing the little bit I couldn't hold down at the last minute.
"Bad--" I coughed, "--Idea."
"You okay?" Hammond asked, sitting up straight. Clearly he was considerate. He was probably only letting me do this to make me happy, anyway. He probably would have preferred his own hand to another guy.
"Fine. I can just do something better," I said. I lowered my face to his balls and licked them several times over. I fondled them in my mouth for at least five minutes, savoring their beauty and their musky smell and taste. I couldn't help but moan. I remembered that I was in class, though, and though I could have spent forever suckling his scrotum, I needed to speed this up if we weren't going ot be walked in on. I also had to make sure not to do anything to piss Hammond off. The straight guy was huge and all-muscle. He was probably benching my weight when he was in middle school.
I moved directly in front of him now, and stood up. I gently urged him to raise his arms, and I buried my face into his armpits. I deeply inhaled the scent of his musk, and tasted him with my tongue. I repeated in his other armpit, and then worked my way across his clavicle. I wrapped my mouth around his nipple, and simultaneously bucked my hips into his, rubbing our dicks together. Hammond moaned harder, grabbing our dicks together in his large hands, stroking us both off at once and thrusting his hips. As I caressed his upper torso with my lips and tongue, I grabbed both our balls and rubbed them together. The feeling was sensational. I was a virgin, and could hardly hold it in all this time. It took a everything not to cum yet.
"Uhh... Now I see why some guys like to do this shit," Hammond said, almost blushing. It was weird for a boy his size to blush. He noticed me begin to blush in return, and he flexed his upper body for me. A steady flow of pre-cum began to flow out in response as Hammond kept bucking, lubing both our dicks thoroughly.
"Lie down," I said softly, trying to make the most of the situation.
"What? Dude, I said this was cool, I didn't say I'd let you stick your thing in my ass," Hammond warned.
"I'm not doing that," I assured. Someday, I hoped that would happen, but I had to take my time before I could top this big fella. Hammond complied, lying down. I pushed on the rear of his thighs, and told him to keep them in the air.
"For not wanting to fuck me, you sure seem like you're going to push your luck and try to fuck me," Hammond said.
"If you don't want it, I won't do it," I promised. I was already starting to develop feelings for Hammond, and didn't want to kill my chances. I just wanted him to be pleased. So, knowing it would please him, I buried my tongue deep into his anus. I worked my way around, surprised not to have to endure the taste of feces. His ass just tasted like a stronger version of his musk. Enraptured, I stuck my tongue in as deep as I could, wrapping my lips around his hole, kissing and sucking it. Hammond nearly screamed with pleasure.
I moved away from his ass, licking down his thighs and calves and then caressing the enormous footpaws I dreamed of every night. I ran my tongue between his toes and on the soles of the feet, lapping up every bit of Hammond's essence. When they were covered with saliva, I held one in my hand.
"Turn the other way," I requested.He complied, getting on all-fours on the small locker room bench. I pressed his foot against my dick and leaned toward his ass. "Massage me with your feet, please," I begged. When he did, I moaned, but muffled the moan by resuming my rimjob, simultaneously caressing his balls and stroking his dick with my free hand. When I came up for air, I glanced toward the lockers and saw someone's cell phone hanging out of their pocket. There was only ten minutes left until everyone came back into the locker room!
"Get back on your back!" I said, nearly frantic. I had to finish this the way I wanted, and there was almost no time left to do so. I knew his dick was plenty smooth from the stroking I'd been giving him; the boy was leaking pre like a bathtub faucet.
He did so, in a daze of pleasure at what I was doing.
"Close your eyes, Hammond," I whispered. He did. I immediately straddled him, lowering myself towards his groin. I pushed his beautiful dick against my tight, virgin ass, and I sat.
The pain was intense; it almost eclipsed the pleasure as I took a thick nine inches in an ass that had never had anything but fingers and the handle of a screwdriver. Hammond moaned, but his eyes flew open and widened at the reality that he was actually having sex with another guy. I noticed this, and out of fear of being hurt or rejected I fought back with pleasure. I rode him up and down, circling my hips as I did so. Hammond's eyes rolled back at the feeling, and he became less tense. I leaned in and hugged his chest, pressing myself against them. my dick sandwiched between our bodies and his dick in my ass.
"Hold me tightly. Use me," I said in euphoria. I just held him as tightly as I could, him holding me tight enough to make me feel safe against him. I inhaled his scent constantly as he fucked me as fast as he could. He stood, still thrusting into me, and began to do me up against a wall. I gasped with every thrust, the absolute pleasure consuming me.
I felt Hammond's body tense up and twitch. He bucked his hips faster and faster, ramming himself balls-deep into my ass. I felt the cum explode in my innards, and the sensation of the pulsing ejaculation began to push me over the edge. When Hammond grabbed my dick and gave it two firm pumps during his orgasm, that was more than I needed. I began to cum everywhere, stronger than I ever had before. His own orgasm having subsided, Hammond began to panic. He couldn't get caught with cum all over him, even though the rest of the class members wouldn't be down for another three minutes. He pulled his dick out and used his muscled arms to lift my ass in the air, angling my dick away from him. I came all over my chest, and Hammond remained clean except for the cum on his dick. He laid me against the wall on the floor, and then stepped back.
"Um, thanks... I guess," he said nervously.
"No... problem..." I said, seeing stars.
"But," Hammond's tone became severe, "If you tell anyone about this, and if you ever try to make me a fag again, I'll take your nuts right off." Hammond grabbed his shorts and underwear, and walked away, presumably to get redressed.
I was crestfallen. I solemnly got my pants on, and grabbed my shirt. Without time to clean up, I used my fingers to clean the cum off my chest and dispose of it in my mouth. My own cum tasted bad, but I was sure Hammond's would have tasted good if I had the opportunity to have it; it was all in my ass, though.
I felt dirty. It wasn't because I was covered and filled with cum, because that felt amazing right now. I felt dirty because I had begged to be used, and was stupid enough to think I wasn't actually being used. I didn't regret anything, but the rejection made me feel like trash. I left school before the others filed into the locker room, not saying a word to anyone on my way to the doors.
Outside, I exposed myself to the cold winter air, the frigid breeze letting loose the tears I'd been holding. A spot on my leg felt particularly cold, when I realized that Hammond's semen was leaking down my leg and freezing there. Uncomfortably, I began the long trudge home.
This is intended to be a two or three-part story based on real-life events. Everything before Hammond switching classes is true, where it becomes what I wish had happened back in high school. I know Hammond is really not a very fleshed-out character right now (other than his brawny figure, purrrrr), but he will be in future chapters, and I plan to make him more real then based on how the real-life Hammond treated other people (part of the fantasy was actually having a back-and-forth conversation with the guy, let alone a sexual encounter).
Please enjoy my work. I hope you like it, and I will be working on the other part(s).