This was a completely new experience for me. I had swallowed a cock to the root; a really thick one, too! As long as I could hold my breath, I would be fine, but that situation would not last long. Still, I hated to pull off. The feeling of having a cock down my throat fascinated me. I swallowed a few more times to clear the saliva and wondered how long I could hold my breath. I was running short on oxygen, but I seemed to be able to control my distress as easily as I had suppressed my gag reflex. I decided to wait until the last possible moment before I let go.
I had just settled down to enjoy it, when I felt Bud's cock stiffen and start to pulse. In no time at all, he was shooting his cum straight into my stomach. It was a fantastic feeling. I swallowed over and over again, trying to milk all the cum out of his cock. As soon as he shot off, his cock started to shrink and go limp, which was just as well, because I was bout to pass out from lack of oxygen. As quickly as I could, I backed off and pulled his cock out of my throat. When it was clear, I exhaled and inhaled as deeply as I could to suck fresh air into my lungs.
While I was recovering, I realized that while deep-throating was a great feeling, the downside was that I missed the taste of cum in my mouth. I put my mouth back on the head of Bud's cock and sucked out a taste of his cream. I was savoring the flavor when I noticed that something had changed — Bud had quit snoring. I looked down at him and said quietly, "I know you're awake."
He opened his eyes and looked up at me with a big grin. "It looks like I've been attacked by the vampire Countess Cumula. Do you usually go around sucking guys off while they're asleep?"
"I was jealous. Sara told me how much fun she and Lori had last night. I'm sorry for waking you up."
"Oh, hell, you can wake me up like that anytime you like! Please! Can I get on the list for a wake-up in the morning?"
I giggled. He was so cute. I made myself a promise to fuck his brains out the next time, if I could only keep my mouth off his cock. I thought about that, then I told him what I wanted to do. He looked very pleased at the prospect.
"Now you go back to sleep," I told him, "You're going to need all the rest you can get." I kissed him and tucked him in. "We'll see about that wake-up in the morning. What time would you like?"
"6:30, please." He looked puzzled, like he had only been kidding about the wake-up. I smiled at him as he lay back down on his pillow. I wasn't kidding. Now I had to figure out how I was going to get to sleep, knowing that there would be a hard cock waiting for me to ride it first thing in the morning.
When I left Bud's room, I turned the wrong way down the hall by mistake. I was barely used to turning right coming out of my own room, so the mistake was not surprising. By the time I figured out I was going the wrong way; I was at the opposite end of the hall next to the back stairs. I thought, "What the heck" and started down. I didn't know where they came out, but I was not likely to get completely lost. The house was big, but not that big.
I went by the landing for the second floor. It looked the same as the third. The first floor landing had a door than opened onto the main hallway behind the formal rooms and next to the little storage room with its medicine cabinet. I went on down, wondering where the stairs would lead.
It was dark when I got to the bottom of the last flight of steps. In the wall opposite was a heavy steel-clad door. I thought it was an outside door, but when I opened it I found myself in a dark room. I felt around on the wall until I hit a pair of switches. The room was large, about 20' by 50'. It was largely unfinished. The walls were whitewashed sheetrock and the floor was concrete. The lights were basic fluorescent fixtures, mounted on a high ceiling. There were some built-in cabinets against the wall next to the stairs and a set of double-doors on the far wall. It looked like Ben Reynolds had intended the room as a workshop or hobby room, but left the decision about what hobby to take up until later. Unfortunately for Mr. Reynolds, later never came and now his workshop stood mostly empty.
'Mostly', because there was something at the far end of the room. Something that caught the eye and held it. I walked past a red rolling tool chest to look at a brand new motorcycle. I knew nothing about bikes, but it was the most impressive piece of machinery I had ever seen. It was shiny black with a huge engine, full cowling, a low windscreen, and enormous exhaust pipes that looked like they belonged on a spaceship. I looked for a manufacturer's nameplate or logo, but there was none I could find. I asked myself what kind of bike a rich man whose main hobby was climbing mountains all over the world would have. The obvious answer was a custom-made machine that had to be faster than anything else on the road.
I opened a few drawers in the tool chest. They were all full of brand-new tools that he must have bought to use in maintaining the bike. There was no dirt or grease or scratches on anything. I guessed that it had been delivered while he was traveling and he never got to play with his new toy.