Like a Root Canal

I met Rogue a coupla years ago, when she came to the institute. Wide-eyed pretty thing with a round face and lips I wanted to kiss the second I saw 'em. I didn't know I couldn't. We started dating not long after she got back from the Magneto ordeal, when she developed that funny white stripe in her hair. I thought she'd dyed it at first but it turns out it was permanent. I rememthe the way she looked at me after returning, big eyes wide and brimming with tears.

"Hi, Bobby." She was biting her lip, staring at her lap.

I grinned nervously, trying to put her at ease. "Hi, Rogue." I touched that white strip of hair, let it fall through my fingers. One slender satin-gloved hand met with mine, tangling itself in those silky strands, dropping down into her lap with such profound misery that I couldn't help but run my fingers over her bare cheek...

John scoots around me so that he's right in front of my face, and in the darkness I can just barely make out the form of his erection.

"C'mon, Bobby," he whispers, his desire making him appear just a little vulnerable. His hand is on my head, stroking with urgency so as to let me know that he wasn't kidding. Fuck, this is weird.

"Gimme a second, okay?" I laugh nervously. "I haven't done this before, y'know."

John starts rocking back and forth impatiently. "I know, I know."

Finally I lower my head to his member, let my tongue flick out over the head real quick just to get used to the idea of what I'm about to do. Tastes salty, sort of warm and fleshy. John moans and bucks his hips slightly.

Wow, did I do that?

I try again, looking up into the darkness to see his face, but I can't really make out any expression. This time, he doesn't give me a chance to jerk away--his hand's right there on the back of my head and I'm forced back down onto his cock.

"Don't bite, Bobby."

"I know, you idiot," I grin, and my words are muffled. John thrusts deeper into my mouth and I slurp with enthusiasm--yeah, I'm as surprised--and let my tongue flutter over the surface, firm and yet soft. The best part of it, besides the noises John is making, is the smell of his body. And then I'm thinking again, fuck, this is weird.

His hand snakes under my belly before I even know what's going on, he's gripping my cock. I suddenly realize just how much I'd been wanting this, his fingers all strong and that smooth, well-muscled forearm pumping hard...fuck. Rogue never felt like this, not ever. Was it because she's a girl or because of those damned gloves?

I bob my head up and down rhythmically, suddenly understanding that while I want John to come, I'm afraid too. What will it taste like? I've tasted my own semen before but c'mon, this is different. I never saw another guy come--maybe it's not the same as when I do. What if he goes off like a damn cannon or something?

"Play with my balls, baby."

I jerk backwards so fast that he doesn't have a chance to catch me, pull me back. "W--what?"

I can imagine John rolling his eyes at the dark ceiling of the tent. "You heard me, play with 'em. Lick 'em. I wanna see what you can do."

I got that part. It was the other little thing that freaked me out. I lean back down to tenatively brush my face up against his crotch. The hairs are bristly, scratchy. I resist the urge to sneeze, and I wonder what would happen if I jgot got up and told him I was done, this is too weird, I'm gonna take a walk.

Would he stop me?

A few minutes pass, and I'm stroking his balls with something like fascination. If only I could see his face...his pretty eyes and mouth all open wide with the pleasure I wanted to give him...

"John?"

A pause. I bet he's thinking I'm gonna chicken out. "Yeah?"

"How 'bout some light, huh?"

I hear him fumbling around in the dark, and then he stops and I can hear the little metal wheel on his lighter scratching uselessly. Then, a hiss and a pop and we're bathed in the glow of a tiny flame.

"Can't make this too big," he says, looking down at me and grinning. "I don't wanna...uh...lose control and burn down the entire forest or anything."

The flame separates from the lighter, swells to the size of an orange or so. I'm real happy to see John's face and resist the urge to leap up and kiss him. The sphere of fire rotates slowly around his head, but he doesn't glance up at it once. That's some control he's got there. It makes me want him even more and it's like firecrackers going off in my brain to realize it. Does this make me gay?
Then I feel John's hand on the back of my head again, begging me to help him feel good, and decide that I don't really care one way or the other.