Victor J. Banis

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Victor J. Banis
313 West Race Street
Martinsburg WV 25401

Victor J. Banis

The first time he came by, I was asleep. I was sound asleep, in fact, 
but let’s face it, 
no sleep short of a coma can withstand a hearty blow job. 
I thought at first it was just a part of a
very sexy dream I'd been enjoying, me and two of those construction 
workers from upstairs and a big jar of Crisco. One of my favorite 
fantasies, and happily, sometimes I managed to
make it come true. Often enough to keep everyone interested.
Gradually, though, the Crisco and the beefy dudes faded and reality intruded. 
And a very nice intrusion it was, too. There I was with a pair of hot, 
silky-feeling lips slipping up and
down on my already stiff prick. Yes! Better than dreams anytime.
He was being gentle and tentative at the start, but somehow he knew the very 
minute I came fully awake, and the tempo changed. All the way hard, the way I 
was now, my cock measures out just a hair under ten inches, and this sweetheart 
was taking it down to the balls without a pause, like it was a kid's lollipop. 
Lick, lick, suck suck. Where was he putting it all?
He was just getting going, too. He began to go up and down on it faster and with 
more enthusiasm, sucking my knob all the way down a willing throat, 
laving it with his tongue as it all but slipped free on the uptake.
“Oh, yeah, baby,” I moaned aloud and spread my legs wide, and he moved from 
beside me to kneeling between them. In the pale moonlight that poured through the 
window, I could see blond hair bobbing up and down, faster and faster. 
I confess, I have a real thing for that blond angelic type. 
They make my tail twitch every time. Seeing him, even in the faint light,
seeing that tossing hair glitter like spun gold, only made me hotter.
So did the hand that took hold of my balls— big, hairy ones, I'm proud to say. 
He began to fondle and massage them energetically while he suckled on me like a 
calf at his mother's teat. This guy might look like an angel in the moonlight, 
but he knew everything there was to know about gobbling a dick. 
Already I could feel that familiar tingle, starting somewhere
behind my nuts, making my asshole twitch.
He sensed that, too. Like he had some kind of ESP. One hand slid down along my
crack, found my tight little rosebud. He took his mouth off my dick for just a 
second, to spitslick one finger. That went back to my waiting hole, 
gently pushed its way in, and found itself welcomed warmly. Nothing adds to a 
suck job like having your prostate massaged while it's
coming down. I think I moaned aloud again. I know I arched my back, 
spreading my legs as
wide as they would go and fucking upward energetically at his face. 
Didn’t deter him in the
slightest. He welcomed the attack, sucked harder, using that probing finger 
like a pro. The tingling inside me was growing fast, becoming a wave, rising up 
in me like the surf before a storm, engulfing my balls, making my gut tighten, 
my cock swell till it felt twice its already impressive size. I held it back as 
long as I could, savoring the exquisite torment, but
he was not to be denied. He shoved his finger deeper, sucked me all the way down.
like a tsunami hitting shore, it broke, the wave crashing through me, the 
flood pouring out of me into that eager, slurping, swallowing mouth, his finger 
jammed all the way up my spasming asshole, his other hand kneading my balls 
forcefully now— until the last tentative spurt had shot, my dick growing only 
marginally softer and hardly smaller at all, and still held
tightly within his lips.
He took hold of the base, gently milked the last few drops of cum from it, 
making sure he missed nothing, gave it a tender squeeze. 
Finally, he lifted his head and sighed with pleasure.
"Ah, that was good," he said, slipping his finger out of me and resting back 
on his knees.
"Better than good," I said. "Sheer heaven, to tell you the truth."
"You aren't sore at me, or anything?”
“Sore about what?”
“Me sneaking up on you like this? While you were asleep, I mean."
"You can sneak up on me like this any night in the week. 
Any time you feel like it."
He laughed softly. “Better be careful what you commit yourself to. That might 
be pretty often. I've been watching you for a long time now and thinking about 
doing this. I just—well, I didn't want to get into any trouble."
"Watching me from where?"
"Umm." I knew the guys upstairs, there were several of them, and I knew 
some of them had their eyes on me much of the time, though I wasn't sure 
just which one of them this was. "What's your name?"
"Let me guess. That's short for something, isn’t it?"
"Yeah, it is,” he admitted. “How about you?"
"That's short too, I’d say."
"Uh huh. Look, you're not really worried, are you? About getting into 
trouble, over coming down here, I mean. You know how your boss is, 
he doesn't approve of this kind of shit."
"Oh, people think that, but, you know, that's just one of those, what do 
they call them, one of those urban myths. To tell you the truth, 
I've actually talked with him about it, the
whole thing, and, no, he really doesn't mind. In fact, what he said was, 
if he didn’t know it
would cause this big uproar, he'd be tempted to do the same thing himself.”
“The same thing? You mean, like… ?”
“Sneaking up on you some night. The way I did.”
"Really?" I could hardly believe it. “He actually said that? 
You’re not putting me on, are you?”
“No, I swear it, that’s just what he said.”
I had to think about that for a moment. “Wow,” was all I could say.
"Well, hey, come on, you are totally hot, you know. 
Everybody always said, you were the sexy one. Your dick is legend, 
they talk about it all the time upstairs, honest."
I couldn’t hold back a little laugh of pleasure. "Do they now?” 
I asked, and, after a
moment’s pause, “So, did it live up to expectations?"
"Totally. Surpassed them, I’d say. Do you mind if I turn on the light?"
Without waiting for an answer, he reached up past me, to the lamp, 
and switched it on.
He sat back down on his knees again, giving my still swollen dick 
another friendly squeeze and looking me up and down boldly.
"Yes, definitely the sexy one," he said.
I knew what he saw. I'm what they call the swarthy type. My olive complexion, 
looks almost red in this kind of light, I’ve been mistaken for an 
Indian— okay, native American, don’t want to get anyone’s dander up. 
My dark hair was plastered in damp ringlets just now on
my forehead, and I’ve got a mere hint of a moustache with a little tee. 
Even when I shaved twice a day, the five o’clock shadow stayed. 
Some people liked them— the moustache, the tee, the shadow. 
Queer guys, especially, liked them. I think it adds a little extra touch 
when I rim them.
Now that the lights were on, I was looking him up and down, too. 
He was pale, so pale in the dim light that he looked almost ghostly. 
He even seemed to glow with an unearthly
radiance. Did I say earlier, angelic? The only thing missing was the halo. 
More twitching. "Do I pass muster?" he asked.
"The stuff of my dreams. How about me?"
"Hot." He chuckled. "That seems appropriate, doesn't it?" 
He reached back behind my
balls again, tickled my butthole with one mischievous finger.
"The horns turn some people off."
"Not me. I like a horny man."
"Me too." We laughed together. His teeth gleamed like platinum.
"Tell the truth and shame the devil— that’s an old saying down 
here— Ari is short for Ariel, right?" I said.
"That's me." He added, after just the slightest pause, "Lucifer," 
and reached past my butthole to give my tail a friendly squeeze. 
It twitched. Handsome blonds always make my tail
twitch. Handsome, horny blonds, especially.
"Tell the boss, anytime he wants to stop by… "
Ariel lowered his head, took my cock in his mouth, removed it for 
just a moment to say, "Thanks, but if it's all the same to you, 
I think I've just appointed myself his proxy," and
went back to sucking.
I was definitely in heaven. To use an expression.

Victor J. Banis
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