Black Friday Curtis

Friday after Thanksgiving. We didn’t go to my grandparent’s ranch because my little brother, stepdad and sister all had the flu. The rest of us had it the week before.

My brother asks if I want to earn five bucks. I’ve been doing this for a while: giving his friends a BJ for five bucks. My brother tells me he is “generously” giving me half. Most of the guys are from other schools. Guys Erik met at baseball camp.

 Curtis is from St. Mike’s. He’s a junior. We see each other at baseball practice when the JV and Varsity squads are practicing around each other. I’m a Freshman, so I’m barely acknowledged by anyone other than Freshmen and First Years.

On the bus ride over, my brother tells me to “be cool.” I roll my eyes. My brother is the one that usually is an idiot. He wants to be in the room “to make sure I do a good job.” After I blow the guy, my brother then “jokes” that he needs a BJ as well. It makes the other boys uncomfortable. Most ask him to wait in another room.

 

I’m fascinated by Curtis. He looks like a man: he’s furry. Great hairy legs, with thick thighs. He also has a really hairy chest. He’s cute, too. And he always seems to have a five o’clock shadow. Dark hair, with beautiful blue eyes. He’s also kind of awkward. Socially, he doesn’t seem to connect with people. But he’s a good shortstop so he’s part of the jock culture at school. He’s hung out with my brother and his friends before. I like his voice, too. It’s kind of raspy. 

His mom is off shopping with his sisters when we arrive. He’s in running shorts and a t-shirt. I can see he’s got a semi when we walk in. He points to the family room, “Hey, Erik, we got a few new games for the Atari…”

Erik practically runs into the family room.

We get to his room. Another rich kid. Well, richer than my family. Big bedroom--bigger than mine and he doesn’t have to share. He’s got a stereo and a TV in his room.

“I moved the Atari downstairs so your brother would leave us alone.”

I stand there. I’m still not sure what to do. Do I go first? I know he wants a BJ, but I’m not sure if I should just drop down to my knees.

He takes off his shirt and tosses it on a chair. “Are you…?” 

I shrug. That’s my answer to a lot of things: a shrug. 

He shucks his shorts. He goes from semi-hard to fully erect in a second. He’s got a nice dick. Not huge, but more than most of the guys at school. It’s kind of thick and has a nice curve to it. He sits on the bed. I kneel before him and take him in my mouth.

I can take most of it in without any trouble. Most of my brother’s friends nut pretty fast, so normally, I’d work it up and down pretty quickly, but I like Curtis. He smells good. He showered. I slow down. I work his balls with my hand. He likes that and lets out a soft moan.

He moves his hand to my left shoulder. I take his hand and move it to the back of my head. Coach often guides me this way. Pulling me close as He wants His dick deeper. I’m pretty sure Curtis has been with Coach. 

He gently pulls my head towards him. I take him deeper. I can’t outright swallow a dick yet, but I can slowly work it down. As my nose nestles into his thick bush, he pulls my head tight for a moment, then releases. We repeat this a dozen or so times: slowly taking him all the way down, pausing, and then pulling back slowly.

Curtis mumbles and moans, but I can’t make out any words. I do notice his balls have pulled up so much that they are on either side of his cock. He’s close. His body is tensing. I’m about to get my reward.

I change my rhythm. I ignore his slow pull and begin to move my head up and down quickly. His hands are now gripping my shoulders.

Curtis lets out a whispered groan “I’m gonna…” I feel the pumping of his beautiful cock. Then I taste it. He begins to spew into my mouth. It’s not a big load, but his salty load spills into my mouth. I keep pumping. “Oh, jeez…!” I keep pumping. I want everything he has to offer.

On a hot summer day, he was hanging out with my brother in the creek behind our house. I tried tagging along, but my brother told me to stay down the creek. I sat there, with my feet in the water, playing with a stick, listening to them talk. I don’t think they knew I could hear. 

Curtis was saying that when he jerked off, he would just keep jerking after he came. He liked the tingling sensation that was “excruciating and mind-blowing.” He said he’d come again after only a minute.

“If I’m gonna lick it up, I might as well do it all in one shot.” 

Rumors and wives’ tales about sex fly about at an all-boys school. Sperm is a big conversation. If you jerk off, you lose your edge. The only way to get it back, is to take back your seed--or someone else's. It’s not uncommon to see a guy at a urinal jerking off into his hand. In fact, a number of guys go out looking for someone to "help out" the day before a big game to “stock up.” Everyone has a story of how someone did it and scored a touchdown or hit a grand slam. 

Curtis starts to push me away, but I kept going. My fingers grasp his dropped and drained balls and I tug a little as I keep pumping with my mouth. I get a tiny taste of his spunky load every now and again and that makes me drool more. My spit spills out and on to his balls. I begin to work them as my mouth continues its assault on his rigid cock.

He is gasping and groaning. I glance up and Curtis has his clenched fists in the air. I reach up and put my left hand on his hairy pec. He grabs my wrist with both hands and holds it tight.

 

Curtis mumbles much louder now. I still can’t make out what he was saying, but he is panting, groaning, and mumbling much louder. Not a yell, but certainly not the whispering or quiet tones previously. I’m pretty sure this is “excruciating and mind-blowing.”

“Holy fuck! I’m gonna blow in your fucking throat again…!” He sobs. “Your fucking… fucking… God damnit!” His entire body starts to shake. I think he is going to break my wrist he’s gripping it so hard.

He is huffing and puffing and suddenly lets out a loud, “Mommy…!” So many guys call out for their moms. 

My mouth is once again filled with his salty spunk. Again, I milk every drop before sitting back, my pants aching with my fully erect cock. 

As I pull away, Curtis falls back on the bed. “Fuuuuck!” He rasps. I sit there watching him: His spent rod, flopped to the side. His furry chest heaving. His whole body glistened slightly with sweat.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. I can hear my brother downstairs cheering for himself on whatever game he was playing.

Curtis sits up. He looks so handsome. His hair is all a mess, but his beautiful blue eyes shine. He looks at me. I think my dick just got harder. “Thank you. That was… wow.”

I smile.

“You really like doing that, don’t you?” I just sit there. Is he calling me a fag? Not sure what to say, I shrug.

I think he realizes how it sounds, because he immediately starts justifying it with how good I am at it and how I just “knew” to keep going.  

I stand to leave.

He notices my hardon in my jeans: “Wow. You’re hard.” Before I can move my hand to cover my embarrassment, he rubs it. I can see a huge wet spot on my Levi’s. “Do you want me to help you out?”

To “help a guy out” means to give him a blow job. Sometimes we say, “Wanna help each out other out?” (“Let’s blow each other.”) If I suck you and you suck me, it’s not gay; we’re just helping each other out. Making ourselves balanced. 

I don’t even hesitate. I pull on the top button of my 501’s and my dick flops out. He gasps. “It is really big, isn’t it?” I don’t think it’s that big. I’m the biggest of my brothers, but not the biggest of my family. I love how guys stare and admire it, so I can’t complain.

Curtis grabs the base and pulls my dick into his mouth. He seems to have some trouble getting his mouth around it but is making a go of it. He looks up at me and those beautiful blue eyes makes me harder. 

I put my left hand on the back of his head, like Coach does, and Curtis closes his eyes. I guess Coach does it to him, too. I take my right and put it under his neck and under his chin. Coach does this as I’m deep throating Him. 

Curtis begins to take more and more of my cock down his throat. I can feel his throat swelling as my cock pushes deeper. I thought that Coach put His hand on my throat for support, now I know why: to feel the swelling of the throat. For someone who had a hard time getting my dick in his mouth, Curtis sure is handling taking it down deep. 

I begin thrusting slowly. Curtis relaxes and lets me slowly fuck his throat. We get into a nice rhythm. I can’t believe a Junior is deep throating my dick. After what seems like only a few minutes, he pulls off to ask me if I’m gonna cum soon. His jaw is hurting.

It feels great, but I’m just not there yet. He has me get on the middle of the bed on all fours. He puts a towel down underneath as he’s played with Erik and knows we shoot a lot. He then slides underneath me. I slowly start fucking his mouth. He starts playing with my balls and moves his hand to my taint and then my asshole. 

That’s all I need. “I’m gonna cum…”

“Mgflflysm…” is his muffled reply.

“I gonna cum a lot… More than Erik.”

“Mmmghur…?”

I push down into his throat and let loose my load. I hold there for three or four pumps, but he pushes me up to breathe. My dick pops out and I spray his face with additional shots of jizz. I hover there on all fours, dowsing him with my spunk.

“Jesus Christ!” He slides out and I continue pumping onto the towel.

I look up and he’s standing there admiring the mess. “Jesus you do shoot more than your brother!” He’s scooping my nut off his face with his fingers and licking them. I get up, move close, and lick some off his cheek and chin. I lean stick my tongue out and lean in. We make out for a second. Most guys don’t kiss, but I had a feeling Curtis did.  

I hand him the towel, jizz-side up. He licks it off. Waste not, want not.

He’s got a boner again.

 

As he licks the last of my load off the towel, I kneel and suck him off again. He cums pretty fast, which is good. His mom arrives seconds after we join my brother downstairs.

 

As we’re leaving, my brother asks Curtis if he had a good time. Curtis smiles and shrugs.

On the long walk home, my brother and I don’t speak. As we go up the walk to our house, he pulls out the fiver and hands it to me. I almost forgot to ask for it.

“You guys were up there for a while, how was it?”

I shrug and head into the house.

 

 

 

 

 

The Great Uncut

Late winter quarter freshman year. Volunteered by my fraternity President to attend an All-Greek meeting. I think it's an honor. No one else will go.

I walk into the auditorium. I’m told to sit in the first three rows. Everyone is scattered throughout this 200 seat classroom. No one is in the first three rows. I see a guy from Sigma-something in the back. Their house is near ours. Decent guys. Mostly jocks. Mostly not too bright. I've seen him around enough that we nod to each other on campus. I go sit one seat over from him.

His name is Brad.  Didn't volunteer; drafted. Junior. 6'6" 250# Plays football. Beautiful eyes. He's hot. Has one foot up on the seat in front of him. His package is big. Seriously big. Without looking at me, he passes me a flask. "It's the only way to get through this..."  The meeting is long and dull. Lots of administrative crap. Nothing of note. We can't leave until we've signed out. Can't sign out until they tell us it's over. 

By the time Brad and I leave, the flask is mostly done. We're both buzzed. We wander off into the cool night air. It's dry now, but rained while we were inside. Everything smells fresh in the night air. I gotta pee. I wander off the path towards some trees and brush, where it's dark. I pull it out and start to pee. Brad staggers up right next to me. Starts peeing. Our wiz makes a slight splattering sound as it makes the large ivy leaves dance and shimmer in the dim light from the path.

Brad bumps me slightly. Our arms touch. He doesn't move away. Presses into me. Our fingers touch. They play as we stand there silent. He finishes. I get hard and can’t pee anymore. He takes my hand and moves it to his dick. I grasp his thick meat in my hand. I move my hand forward... uncut. I stroke his meat. He sighs. "Yeah..." he whispers.

He grows fully hard in only a few strokes. Damn. It's really big. I want to drop down and try and take it in my mouth. I stroke forward. I slip my finger into his foreskin and roll it around the head.

"Oh, my God!" he says in full conversation voice. We've been silent up to this point.

I rub my finger over his urethra a few times... He gasps, "Dude...!" I can feel his cock grow even bigger and harder. He grabs the back of my neck for support. I start pumping his dick hard. Moving my hand down the shaft and then back over the head. I keep increasing the pace. Grips my neck harder. Breathing tightens up. I keep pumping his thick shaft. He sucks in more air... and holds it. I hold mine. He makes a slight "Mmph." noise. I stop pumping and hold the base tight. He's cumming.

I feel the first pump of his load. Then I hear it. In the silence it hits the leafy ground cover with a loud "SCHLAPP" sound as his huge load unleashes onto the groud cover. Each pump of jizz lands with the same noise: "SCHLAPP... SCHLAPP... SCHLAPP..." I can't tell how many pumps of ejaculate shoots from his massive cock. It's only when I think it should have ended that I start counting. I count six before he dribbles to a conclusion. I'm guessing it's at least twelve nut blasts. I can smell his rich seed in the air. I'm close and I haven't even touched my dick.

I don't want to let go. His rough hand is still on my neck. He turns me slightly. I think he's going to say "thanks" or "fuck you, faggot", not sure as the silence confuses me. He grabs the top of my jeans by my ass and bends over. My dick is in his mouth. One hand holding my jeans, the other my thigh. Like he thinks I'm going to try and get away. Gives a great blowjob. Very sloppy. Takes it all in. I grab his hair and fuck his face. 

Doesn't take me long. I whisper, "I'm gonna sperm." He keeps slurping away. I say it again. He still keeps slurping. Finally, I say it out loud, "Dude, I'm going to sperm my load in your mouth." He grunts. I nut. He takes it all. 

Every. 

Fucking. 

Drop. 

He stands up. Looks around casually and pulls out his flask again. He takes a swig. Offers it to me. I oblige. With a shrug, he says, "Later" and walks off, tucking his massive meat back in his pants as he gets to the walkway. Brad stops. “If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” I nod. He turns away. He stops again. “But I wouldn’t mind fucking you.” He smiles. Waves. Walks off. I realize have to pee again. 

---

Late June. It's too fucking hot. Heading from the library to my last final. I'm walking across the quad, sweating. I see Brad in the distance walking in the opposite direction. He nods. I keep walking. He turns back. I walk around towards the back of the Humanities building along a path. To my left is the spot where I jerked off Brad. I open the door to the back stairwell. I doubt too many people use this way in: it's on the edge of the main quad. The path only leads around the building. Brad has almost caught up to me as I enter the small vestibule. Hold the door open for Brad. He smiles. 

I as I walk the heat of the room overwhelms me. It's stifling. Brad bumps me into the corner with his body. I can feel the heat coming off of him. I drop my backpack as I brace myself against the wall. I'm not sure if we're gonna fuck or if he's going to beat me up. His hands glide down my body. 

We're gonna fuck.

He reaches around. Pulls me close. Begins biting on my neck. His hands grab the top of my jeans and pull. The button-fly pops open with six little pops. His hands push my jeans and boxers down. He grinds against me as he grabs my junk. We are not nearly as quiet as we were that night. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the urgency. Whatever. He wants in my ass. He's pulled open his jeans. His hard cock is pushing up the small of my back. He grinds into me. Pumping me. Groping. 

I'm turned and pushed to the floor. "Slick it up." It doesn't seem as big in the daylight as it bobs in front of me. When I try to put it in my mouth, I realize how huge this fucker is. I gag. Slurp. Drool. Tug on his massive nuts... My ass is twitching. I'm not that into bottoming, but fuck... 

"Up." He grunts as he pulls me up and turns me around. He pushes me against the wall. Toys with my hole with his spit-covered dick on my sweaty ass. The head enters...

"FUCK!" I'm in pain. He grunts as he pushes in more. I feel a trail of sweat roll down my back. I silently pray it goes down to my aching hole. He pushes... I cry out again. 

He laughs. "There's more..."

Brad pulls out. I hear him spit. Then the sound of him rubbing that thick meat. He rubs my slick back and I feel his fingers pushing the slickness to my hole. It's against my hole again... He pushes in. Some more. And more. And more... 

...still more. 

I'm seeing stars. I realize that I'm pushing on the wall so hard I've pushed myself up. He's pushing into me so hard I'm being supported by his dick. I'm about to go into full freak out mode that I'm being skewered by this giant cock, until I realize he's got his left arm under mine. His right hand between my legs. I relax a bit. He takes this as a cue to fuck me harder and deeper. 

I've got my feet on the ground. We get into a nice rhythm. His right hand now firmly grasping my cock and balls. He's leaning on the left forearm, pushing me against the wall. I don't know if I can take the ass pounding much longer. I also don't want it to stop. 

"You like that, buddy?" His cock assaults my hole. I can only reply with a gurgle. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, you're gonna scream so loud when you cum."

As he begins to piston-fuck my hole, we hear it. A door, several flights up slams and someone is descending the stairs. 

While we are not in plain view, if the person walking down the final steps looks moderately to their left, we're caught. 

"Shut up! Shut up!" he hisses. Even stifling my whimpers and grunts, I'm panting like a mother fucker. 

The steps get closer as they come down the clanging metal stairs. Brad shifts moves his arm and pulls me closer. The person is right above us. They stop. Brad pulls tighter. His cock slips in all the way. Balls deep. My legs curl up. Pushed against the cold concrete wall, he's holding my torso with his left arm and my dick and balls with his right hand. It's all I can do not to scream out. My entire body is on fire. Sweat is pouring off me and I'm slippery in his arms. I'm going to slide out and onto the concrete floor. 

The person walks down the stairs and steps off the last step. I slip. Brad pulls me tighter. I grunt. 

And then it happens. 

Brad lets out a soft moan. I feel his huge cock depositing a massive load in my ass. Each pump of sperm into my hole makes me shake harder. My balls pull back and I begin blowing my load down the wall. I gasp loudly. I hear a loud click and whirr... Why hasn't this person noticed us? The door opens and the room fills with bright sunlight. The door shuts. We both groan loudly as he pumps the last of his spunk into my hole. I slip from Brad's arms. Dropping on my knees gasping. 

Brad is giggling. "Fucking Walkman." He laughs louder. "He had a fucking Walkman. Never even noticed us." 

He helps me up. We stand there awkward in our silence. He’s a sweat-covered god. I want to lick the sweat off him. I hesitate. I look down. I see my bag. "Fuck! I'm late for my final!" I scramble to put my clothes on. I'm not going to have time to shit out his load. I barely say goodbye.

I have no idea how I did on that final. All I remember is being uncomfortable the whole time and getting hard again every time I realized I had his massive load in my ass. I was on the Dean's List that year, so I must have done well. 

I saw Brad around, but we never hooked up again after that. 

The Boosters

I’ve been hesitant about writing about some of my high school experiences. Being whored out is not easy to write about. Less so when it was enjoyable. Even less than that when I pursued much of it. It’s hard to convey the whole situation. Where to start? How much to reveal?

So I’ve decided just to post some experiences. Not always in sequence. Just as they come to me. Let others figure out how the puzzle all fits together. Take from it what you will…

Private Jesuit boys school. I’m a poor kid. Not on scholarship. My grandparents pay for our tuition, but nothing else. Extras have to be earned. In order to play sports, we have to volunteer. We have to help raise money for the school. We have to grease the wheels.

Make no mistake, the Bishop and Board know. Impossible that they don’t. The ends justifies the means. If that means some of the boys have to sin, so be it. Forgiveness comes from good works and confession. Sin all you want… confession is at 8:00am on Saturdays. And just to make it all Kosher, the very priests involved were the ones who heard my confession.

Freshman football.  I' never make Varsity. I spend most of my time trying to avoid my coach’s wrath. I spend the rest receiving it.

Still developing. Won’t have a true growth spurt until the fall of my Junior year. Until then, I move awkwardly along. My dick grows, the rest of my body takes time to catch up.  My time in football gives me discipline in the gym. Teaches me about teamwork. I make some great friends. I have some great sex.

But my heart and dick will belong to my baseball coach. I first saw Him when I attended one of my brothers’ games. He owned me from the moment I saw Him. He would become my mentor. My lover. My friend. More on Him another time.

Being on the team was a big stretch for me. Making it wasn’t. Pretty much everyone who tries out gets on. You just don’t get playing time. If you want more playing time, you’ve gotta earn it. Any way you can.

That’s where the Boosters come in. They pay for everything. Uniforms. Weight rooms. Travel. The coaches and the priests allow them free reign. What they want, they get. Often they want the athletes. They watch our practices and games. They study us. The covet us. We are offered up on the altar of free money. For private schools, that money buys trophies and championships.

My brothers gave me the low-down before I even applied. I saw what it got them. I was ready to play.

Saturday. A week before our first preseason game. We’re running drills. Not in pads. More for muscle memory—although no one will call it that for years. The Boosters are on the sidelines watching. Always watching.

I head into the locker room. Coach tells me to head into the supply room. Years ago they used to pass out fresh towels and wash them.  The equipment and towels are gone. It’s mostly empty. The room is full of a lot of old broken equipment. And Mr. Randall.

I’ve seen him at a lot of practices. I went to grade school with his oldest son Jerry. Died of Leukemia when we were ten.  His youngest won’t be here for a few years. He's about 6'. Thick, fuzzy body. Reminds me of a bulldog. All muscle. Tough. Marine. The kind of guy everyone says "Yes, sir" to him a lot. He's got piercing blue eyes that when he stares you, makes you want to piss in your pants. You don't want him on your bad side.

“You did well out there today.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ve improved a lot… getting bigger.” I nod.  He puts his hand on my shoulder. He smiles.  “You know why you’re here?” I nod. “Okay, then.” He unbuckles his pants. Pulls them down a bit. Stops. Looks at me. “Get to it.”

I’m in a daze. It doesn’t feel real. My first experience in a truly surreal situation. I drop to my knees. I pull down his pants. He’s hard in his BVDs.

It’s not that big. It’s thick. Just not long. The way he’s stands there, I’d imagined it being huge. He’s got the confidence of a well hung man. His dick is dark. It looks different from the rest of him. It’s nice, just different. His balls are huge. Big hairy globes that hang low. As I take him into my mouth, I roll those beautiful balls in my hands.

He tastes musky and I taste a little pee. I don’t think he showered this morning. He tastes like a man. A real man. Not a boy. Not the boys I’ve been blowing. I look up to him. His eyes are closed. I wonder what he’s thinking? He opens his eyes. Looks down. I’d stopped sucking. e He grabs my head. Fucks my face.

Our eyes lock. He slows. Watching me take his dick. “Yeah…” He gives me a slight smile. “Here you go boy…” I feel his huge balls rise.  He looks straight ahead and sighs. His dick begins to pulse. “Yes… yeah…”

My mouth is filling with his load. Fuck, it’s big. I try to swallow, but he’s so damn thick. He pulls me down on his dark dick. I can’t close my mouth.  I begin to choke. I cough up some of his jizz. It splatters back onto his dick and furry stomach.

I pull back and swallow. It’s thick. It’s salty. It’s delicious. He’s still shooting and a glob shoots on my face, just below my eye. I drop back on it. He releases more spunk into my mouth. I drink it down.

I lick up the jizz I coughed up on him earlier. He makes me suck up the last drops still dripping out of his dark dong.  Using his finger, he pushes the glob on my face into my mouth.

Minutes later we’re walking back into the locker room. Guys are changing. Showering. No one seems to notice. Those that do just nod and move on.  Been there. Done that.

We continue to the office.  Up the eight steps. The coaches offices look down on the locker room. Easy to watch over the guys in the showers.

Mr. Randall tells coach he thinks it’s going to be a great season. Hands Him an envelope. It’s got a check in it. First payment. Keep him happy and future checks will come. He pats me on the shoulder. Tells coach I’ve got a future ahead of me. As Mr. Randall leaves, he shakes my hand and winks.  He slips me fifty bucks.

I’m officially a whore.

I don’t care. Fifty bucks is a shitload of money for me back then.

Sunday morning. Mass is over.  I’m changing out of my altar boy vestments. Father Anthony tells me he’s heard great things about me. Mr. Randall called him to tell him that he should be very proud. I start to kneel. He stops me. “He’d like to give you a ride home…”

Mr. Randall drives a 1978 Ford Mustang Cobra II. We drive for a while.  It’s sweet. He asks me if I want to drive it. I don’t have my license. I say “sure.”  We drive into the hills. Other than the occasional “Slow down” he says little.

Along a secluded road, he tells me to pull over. He tells me he enjoyed the other day. Asks me if we can meet now and again. I shrug. I don’t want to seem too eager. Don’t want to seem like a fag.  He leans in close. “Shuck your pants.” 

He drives back. Both of us a big load lighter. I came faster than I wanted to. I worry he thinks I’m a fag. As he drops me off at my house, he shakes my hand and winks. He slips me fifty bucks. Awesome.

Two Saturdays later. Lost our game. I played for a total of three plays. I barely have a grass stain on my uniform.  As I pack my gear up and head out, Coach calls me. He’s got an envelope in his hand.  Mr. Randall would like to give me a ride home.

He drives me to his house.  Not sure where his wife and kids are. I don’t ask. We’re in his bedroom. I’ve been here twice before. The first time, when his son was still alive. Before he was sick. Mr. Randall was in the shower and Jerry wanted money to go to the movies. It was the first time I’d seen his dark dick. He didn’t shy from showing it off. He threw the towel over his shoulder.

The second time was the previous week when he brought me over to blow him. He sat back on the bed and let me work on his rod for an hour. When he’d get close, he’d push me off and have me suck on his balls.

On this Indian Summer afternoon, he has something new in store for me.  We roll around for a while. Chewing on each other. Blowing each other. Sucking on various parts. We never kiss. Because that would be gay. He rolls me onto my stomach and smacks my ass. I push it up for him to play with. He fingers it. Spits. Licks it. I push back.

“I know what you need…”

I’m on my back and he’s trying to enter me. His thick cock tries forcing its way in. I cry out in pain. He tells me to “man up” and take it. I’ve been fucked before. But this is the thickest I’ve taken. His log seems to get thicker and hurt more with each push. I want to tell him to use more lube. I lack the confidence to tell an adult how I should be fucked.

I finally start to relax and let him pummel my ass. He stops to change positions. Each time, it feels a little better. After being fucked bent over the bed, he throws me back on the bed. “Time to take this home.” He climbs onto to me. My legs instinctively open up for him. He moves over me.

He’s in me. It feels great. “I’m going to cum deep in you, son.” He keeps up his assault on my ass until I beg him to fuck me harder. I hold on to him. Staring into his eyes. “Please… papa…”  I’d never used that term before, but it does the trick. He empties that thick, dark penis into my ass.  I lay there, feeling his thick cock continually twitch and pump in my hole.

After, in the shower, he jerks me off from behind. I’m so turned on, I beg him to fuck me one more time. Using conditioner for lube, he obliges me. He doesn’t last very long. Again, I called him “Papa” and he nuts.

Totally spent, he drives me home.  Drops me off a block from the house. Doesn’t want anyone to know what’s going on.  As get out, he shakes my hand and winks. I thank him. Again he slipped me fifty bucks.  He won’t be the last Booster to pay me for sex. 

AA Meeting

“Leave your wallet in the car.” Marcus is giving me the rundown for our lunchtime adventure. We’re in his car. Middle of nowhere in The City. Old warehouses. A few repair shops. The whole thing is very ‘off grid.’

He continues. “Don’t talk to the first guy. I wouldn’t even look at him.” I roll my eyes. Marcus grabs my sleeve. “Seriously, he’ll fuck you up.”

I’ve left my wallet, watch and anything of value in the car. Except for the twenty in my pocket. I’ve stuck my ID in my sock as Marcus suggested. “Just in case.” Of what, I don’t want to know.

My mind whirls around all the information he gave me. Most of these guys are seriously straight. Anything “gay” could set them off. No kissing. Avoid eye contact. Don’t fuck around. Don’t be a smart-ass. Have fun... sure.

It’s almost noon. The place has been “open” for almost half an hour. It closes in little more than an hour. Marcus explained why. I can’t remember right now. It made sense when he told me.

Small unmarked door on the street gets us into the warehouse. Not much of a street. No signage. Only one business appears to be open about a half a block away. I don’t see anyone on the street. No cars, either.

We walk purposefully right past the first guy. I don’t make eye contact. Not sure what the place was before, but this was the office. Torn up now. Abandoned. Patches of carpet. Cube farm without the cubes. Ceiling is barely hanging. We walk into the small office in the back. I follow Marcus’ lead and wordlessly toss my money to the guy at the desk. We head to a bashed out hole in the wall.

Marcus warned me the place was a dump. He didn’t do it justice. We walk along a narrow corridor. The high roof of the warehouse is way overhead. The narrow walls that corrals us in look like they were erected over a weekend. The layout is simple: the narrow hallway encircles a long, narrow central room. The hallway is braced overhead with an occasional two-by-four. All lighting is natural from the dirty warehouse windows and almost opaque skylights. Tarps are sporadically thrown over the braces to create pockets of completely dark space.

The center room has a plywood wall tilted up with four glory-holes cut in. Like the hall, braces to the hall walls hold it steady. I get the feeling if someone pushed hard, the whole place would collapse.

I hear some groans and the occasional voice. I see no one. It’s damn dark. Marcus disappears almost instantly. I walk alone. There are a lot more guys there than I would think. Most are just standing there in the darkness. Several have their dicks out. Most just stand there staring at the ground. One or two look up. It takes me three laps before I realize the place is small and I’m seeing the same guys over and over.

Finally, I see some guys going at it. Fucking. Sucking. Very serious. No one is laughing or smiling. I continue on.

A hot guy leans against the wall. I think he’s hot but can’t be sure. He stands in the dark. The light cuts a clean line right by his shoulder. My eyes are adjusting, but the light hitting him is reflected. His shirt is open. His chest is nice.

I rub his stomach and chest with my hand. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t look at me, either. My eyes are adjusting. I look at him. He’s got a buzz cut and a two day growth of beard—buzzed all over his head. Masculine features. His eyes are dark. They look kind. Thin lips.

I lean in and lick his nipple. He takes a deep breath. I chew a bit. He smells like a working man. Bit of sweat. Musky but not dirty. I move to his right pit. Buzz resists. I’m persistent. I push his arm back. I dive in.

I tongue his pit a bit. He seems uncomfortable, but says nothing. I move back to his chest. His nipples are fantastic. I chew on them for a while. I move to his left. He lifts his arm to offer his pit. Good boy.

I get into that pit and I lick. I soak it with my spit. I chew. I nibble. I fucking worship it. The taste. The acrid smell. It’s fantastic. I move back over to his right pit to give it its proper due.

Buzz pushes on my shoulders. He’s enjoying this, but he’s here to get off. I drop to my knees. I pull open his workpants. The smell is intoxicating. Warm. Musky. Smells like a real man. I begin to salivate.

I yank down the front of Buzz’s tighty-whities. His thick cock falls out. He’s cut. Big, hairy balls. I examine it for a second in the dim light. Then, I swallow it. He gasps. I work the whole shaft. All in. All out. Sucking his whole dick. He lets out a low moan.

I concentrate on the head for a while. Rolling my tongue over the head. Licking it. Teasing it. I taste some precum. That inspires me to work harder on his cock. Buzz gasps and moans quietly.

I pull his underwear down more so I can really get at his balls. I stroke the shaft as I suck on each of his hairy nuts. I roll them around on my tongue. Pulling a bit. Sucking them. The musky taste is intoxicating.

Buzz grabs his dick and smacks my face. He wants me to suck him again. I take it back in my mouth. Long slow strokes up and down, followed by quick pumps. He grunts. His hips start to buck. He’s going to cum.

He grabs my head and pulls me onto his shaft. I reach around and grab his hairy ass. Buzz let’s out a guttural groan. I hold his cock in my throat as he pumps his load into me. Buzz thrusts his hips. His load continues to gush into my mouth. I stay there with him in me until he stops bucking. I pull off and swallow his spunk.

He pulls his pants up. Buzz grunts something—thanks?—as he puts his junk back in his drawers. I start to stand. Buzz walks off. No other words spoken between us. I wipe my mouth and smell his musky scent. My cock is rock hard.

I walk along the dim hallway. I’m surprised there are still a lot of guys here. It’s getting close to 12:30 and the place closes at 1:00pm. I continue walking. Lots of suits on their lunch hour.

Marcus is in the center room. Pants around his ankles. Sucking on some roughneck’s dick. Taking it bareback from another. I walk over and tussle his hair. He turns to look at me, cock still in his mouth. I can see the joy in his eyes. I ask the guys if he’s being a good boy. They don’t answer. The both keep pumping the whore in the suit. I move on.

There’s a younger, cute blue collar guy in the hall. Thick, but not heavy. Looks like he might have played football in high school. He’s kinda short. But I can see he’s got a solid body. He tries giving me a tough guy look. I give him a hard stare and he looks away. Not so tough.

I walk up and stare him down. He looks away. I grab his balls. He’s hard. I slide my hand down his pants. Not only is he hard, he’s dripping. I turn him around, so I’m behind him reaching around. I can dominate him.

With my other hand, I grab his ass. Bubbly. Soft, yet firm. I push my crotch into his ass. Football whispers “yes.” I move hand off his ass and around him. One hand still in his pants, the other caresses his chest through his shirt. I hug him tight and thrust into him. He whimpers.

I nibble very lightly on his neck. “Condom?” I whisper. He says front pocket as he throws his head back. I can’t resist and nibble more on his neck. A lot of these guys may not want to kiss. Football isn’t one of them.

I reach into Football’s front pocket. Magnum Condom. The guy has high hopes. Also a traveler lube packet. I love this kid. I’m aware of the time, so no foreplay. I just want to get to it. I tug on his belt. I tell him to drop his pants. I undo my belt and drop my suit pants. For a moment I think of fucking him through my boxers. I yank my cock out over the elastic band. Not sure why I don’t drop them all the way. I just don’t.

Condomed up, I lube up his ass. I finger it a bit. His ass is tight. I quickly add another finger. Not too tight. I tell him to lean forward. I squat down a bit. I rub my cock on Football’s crack. Just before I enter, I hear a voice say, “Fuck him hard”. I look around. Three guys are jacking it, watching us. I turn back to Football.

I lean forward and whisper, “You ready?” He nods.

I grab his waist and push in. Football moans under his breath. I move one hand to his shoulder and pull him back as I push forward. I go in deeper. He grunts hard. I think it hurts him. I keep pushing. I let out a heavy sigh as I push all in. “Oh, yeah…”

Football lets out what almost sounds like a sob. I think he’s trying to say something, but he can’t. I begin thrusting into him. I just want to nut in his ass. I start moving hard and fast. Grab his hips and thrust into his hole. All I’m thinking about is fucking until I cum. No reaching around. No worrying about his needs. His moans tell me he’s happy enough.

I’m close. I pull him back and begin bucking wildly. I whisper nasty shit into his ear. I tell him what a good fuck he is. How I want to nut in his hole. He says some shit. Mostly “porn quotes” (“Fuck my ass with your big cock” “Breed me” Shit like that). I reach down to feel Football’s cock. Some suck-boy is on his knees working hard to get him off.

I’m close. Some guy watching nuts. He yells out. Guys are commenting on my fucking. I close my eyes and start grunting loudly as I spill my seed into his tight ass. I call out that I’m cumming. I lose control and bang his ass wildly. I push him forward onto Suck-boy. Thrusting deeper. Dumping my load into his ass.

I stand there catching my breath. My cock still throbbing in Football’s hole. I rub his back through his shirt. He leans back. I pull him tight. Grabbing his chest and stomach. I whisper in his ear I want to see him cum.

Football grunts and gasps through his orgasm. He never yells out or says “I’m cumming.” He feeds the guy on his knees in front of him. His jizz dribbles from suck-boy’s mouth.

I pull out. I flick the condom onto the ground and pull up my pants. Football buttons up, too. Suck-boy stays kneeling, looking down. I put my hand on Suck-boy’s shoulder, “Good job.” Quick pat. I move on. Suck-boy mumbles a quiet “Thank you, sir”.

I make my way down the hall. Marcus is walking towards me. He looks satisfied. There’s jizz on his shirt. “That’s why I keep extras in my office”.

Not too many guys left. We walk through the hole in the wall and back into the office. The guy from the desk calls out for everyone to hurry on out. The guy at the front is sitting in a chair, ignoring us.

We walk out into the bright sunlight. Marcus and I walk down in the middle of the street.
A beat up truck drives slowly by. It’s Football. His window is down. I stop. He stops. He nods. I pull a business card from my suit pocket and toss it into the truck. He drives off. Marcus rolls his eyes.

We continue on. A guy in the open shop stops us. He wants to know what all these different guys are doing in the old warehouse. Marcus smiles with an instant response, “A.A. meeting.” The guy smiles and nods his head in approval. I’ve never been big on meetings, but this is one I could do again.