Recently I have been making friends with the steam
rolling from street manhole covers.
For a second I thought I was talking with my old psychologist
but then the steam morphed into Rita Whats Her Name
- the whore everyone knows fucks married men.
I watched the prostitutes ice skate on their heels down Madison Ave
and frowned remembering when my dad
poured alcohol into a thermometer before
my sister killed herself and wrote
“down down down she goes
and where she’ll stop, nobody knows.”
Old men fuck me while I sleep
and I ask only that they protect me from frost bite
since I know one woman who lost her labia lips
in the blizzard of 96.
Young men fuck me while I’m awake
and it makes me wonder
whether I want to fuck baseball players
or make love to volleyball coaches.
I am getting ready to run with the kids
who can’t keep their legs closed.
You know, the ones who run
and never eat
or ever sleep.
I don’t want to have sex anymore! I really don’t, but it just keeps fucking happening.
I thought erotic massages would be a good way to release my sexual tension, so I went to this guy on the beach and let him rim and blow and rub me. By the end, before I had a chance to reflect on my status as newly reclaimed virgin, he was fucking me.
Afterwards, on the same day nonetheless, I met up with this really young guy (he told me that the day before had been his 18th birthday) and he tried to fuck me as well. I felt his cock stab its way a quarter inch or so into my ass, then I realized that he was wearing no condom and that I didn’t want to get ass fucked. I pulled away. The next hour consisted of him stabbing his cock blindly around my ass and back. Sometimes it would push against the right spot, but most of the time it was far away from the gold. I never let him put it in, though.
You may be asking yourself – Why did I end up naked in the bed of a good looking boy that I did not want to fuck? I don’t know. I guess I lack boundary’s.
Both these incidents occurred this past Thursday. They were reminders that I need to actively work to not be whore.
The next day, I was walking to school when these two huge tropical birds started fighting in front of me. They weren’t just colorful birds, they were huge peacock sized birds that emerged seemingly out of thin air. I tried to attach some meaning to the event.
“Of course,” I said to myself, “the birds represent the internal battle between good and evil that exists within me. Their emergence shows how sudden and unexpectedly conflict can arise.”
“No no no” I thought seconds later, “these two magnificent animals indicate that even beauty has a destructive side.”
I had a few more theories before concluding that birds just like to fight sometimes.
It was never quiet during our dinner conversations, and yet no one talked. When I was a kid my parents used to ask my sister and I questions about school and our friends. Mom would laugh while dad ran his fingers over her ticklish knees. Some nights, when I was in an especially good mood, I would prepare trivia questions for us to answer. I spent hours scanning through dated Worldbooks, writing down facts about state populations and ocean depths. After dinner, when it was summer and the sun was still up, my mom would take me behind the house with the dogs and show me how to cut through the barbed wire fence behind our property. Then she and I would walk, with the dogs running tight loops around us, through the mossy cattle fields.
Now the empty lots around our house were covered with wooden frames. The sound of construction drills and slamming hammers perforated the night air and sent ripples through my tomato soup. All of us were silent, focusing on the sounds of grinding tools and flying splinters.
I had a new client that wanted to fuck me before his wife came home. I read and responded to his text messages underneath the table cloth while my sister read a school book and my mom drew wispy figures with her soup across the sides of her porcelain bowl. The only thing on my mind at that moment was pills.
I excused myself when I felt that I had sat long enough not to arouse suspicion. I walked to my room and locked the door behind me. My parents believed that I have been sick for weeks, so they didn’t act surprised when I appeared to go to sleep before 9.
I ground up a pill with a glass globe my grandma had given me the year before and then snorted the powder through a red straw. Then I crawled out my window and quietly mounted my bike and followed the main street towards Madison Park while a nice, warm buzz looped through my veins.
As I biked slowly into the twilight the street lights flickered on one by one. To my right was Lake Washington. When I was younger and there were less houses, my sister and I would sneak out at night and sit along the seaweed covered beaches and smoke cigarettes that we stole from our dad. If the moon was bright enough, we would swim out to a wooden dock, igniting blue bursts of light as our wakes aroused luminescent algae.
Now it was hard to see the lake through the high fences and garage doors.
I was excited because soon I would be able to legally buy cigarettes. Until then, nice clients or cheap clients were my only source. Sometimes I gave them a discount if they offered to buy me carton beforehand. On other occasions, I just stole their packs when I left. Then I marked their numbers with an “x” in my phone, which told me to never contact them again.
The air felt cold on my face as the street darkened. My bike handles wobbled as I looked at the house numbers, trying to find the address of my new client. It was supposed to be a brick house with a white pergola wrapped around the garage.
Eventually I saw the house. A giant ivy vine’s arms had wrapped around the base of the house and snaked up towards the wooden roof. Ivy vines are selfish creatures, I believed, that swallow every plant, house or human nearby. I knew that, if left untouched, this vine would soon expand like cracked glass until it smothered the manicured yard – covering the golf grass until it was obliterated.
I hid my bike in a dew soaked bush and then swatted the moisture off of my jacket as I rang the doorbell. I was greeted by an unusually good looking man with coal colored eyes and hair. For once a client had been truthful about his appearance. I was still buzzing from the pill I snorted, but I could already feel myself beginning to descend back towards sobriety.
He invited me in and took me into a large, marble kitchen. He asked me if I was thirsty and then handed me a beer before I could respond. I took a large sip and let the frothy bubbles slide down my throat. I wasn’t yet skilled at talking to adults, even though I fucked them, so I was hoping the alcohol would give me some confidence and something to talk about.
Mitch, as he called himself, asked me questions about my school and my favorite sports teams. I tried to convey confidence and intelligence as I spoke, but all I could think about was how I blinked. Was I doing too quicky or too slowly? I didn’t want to flutter my eye lids like a fag, but I also didn’t want to dry up my frail, moist cornea.
I responded to most of his questions with quick answers. Yes, No, Sometimes. I was more concerned with analyzing Mitch’s appearance. His hair had been greased and combed and his slacks were sliced with freshly ironed creases. He clearly took care of himself. He wasn’t like the other slobs I saw.
Then I felt a craving for more pills. The desire slowly tightened in my stomach like a noose. I just needed to fuck, get money and then Oxy. The thought was reassuring to me as I gazed at Mitch and smirked while he talked. I really, really wanted some Oxy.
Soon I was feeling drunk. Much drunker than I should have felt for having not even finished a whole beer. Before I could react Mitch was sitting next to me, stroking my hair, as though he were coaxing me to fall asleep. The synapses were slowly crackling in my mind, trying to process what was happening around me. Then it became rather obvious, I had drunk more than just alcohol.
My thoughts trotted like sludge through my brain as I tried to think of how to escape. I’ll just tell him I have to go pee real quick, and then I’ll run out the front door or sneak out a window.
I excused myself to the bathroom and tried to walk straight without falling. I didn’t want him to think his drugs had taken effect, or else he would stop me. I managed to make it into the bathroom and close the door. Leaning against the door, it took all my strength to study the small window in front of me. Why had I not gone out the front door?
A powerful urge to close my eyes swept over me. I tried to fight it, but soon I forgot why I was trying to keep them open in the first place. Closing them felt so good. I let them relax and again I thought about the pills and how yummy they tasted in the back of my throat.
I slid down onto the floor. My eyes were still awake, studying the wet floor mat when the door pushed open and slid my body towards the wall. Then I felt Mitch’s hands on my back. Hope you’re not too tired he said as he dragged me into the center of the tiled floor.
I didn’t feel nervous or frightened. I just felt tired. So incredibly tired.
My body was complete dead weight while Mitch pulled my jeans and boxers off. Then I felt his hands squeeze the meat of my ass. He was grabbing it so hard that I knew it should hurt, and yet I didn’t feel any pain. I tried to focus on the ice cold tiles pressing against my cheek while Mitch probed my ass with his hands. Then I felt his tongue run down my ass crack. His teeth pushed against my skin while his tongue twisted its way in.
I didn’t find the encounter too unpleasant at that point. I hoped that maybe he would just rim me and then leave me alone until I awoke. Then I would sneak away and bike back home.
I let the thought ever so slowly move through my clouded mind while Mitch sucked on my ass. Then I felt a hard spank.
Yeah, you’re fucking nothing he yelled,You’re nothing but a fuck machine. Just a hole for me to fuck and suck.
Please no I said rather pathetically, imagining my parents putting up missing persons flyer’s on the cracked power lines that lined our street.
Mitch laughed a little and then shoved a few fingers up my ass. Then he pushed hard up into my guts. I felt a drop of his saliva fall on my naked back while he swirled his fingers through my insides. My body wouldn’t move. I kept willing my fingers to wiggle and my feet to kick, but they didn’t respond.
Then his fingers were out of me and I felt something much bigger against my ass. It was his cock. I couldn’t see it but I could feel that it was big and hard as it slid up and down through my ass cheeks.
I’m gonna cum in you he said as he pushed down on my back and thrust his cock into my ass. This time I did feel a tinge of pain, which let me know that there was a lot more pain that I was numb to. His cock dredged into my ass hard and strong. I guessed that he was probably drawing some blood.
Yeah you fucking like that don’t you Mitch said through his labored breaths as he fucked me. At first his stokes were relatively shallow. Every once and awhile he would pull his cock out so that he could move down and relubricate my ass with his tongue. I could feel big globs of warm spit streaming down my ass as Mitch wiped his tongue over my hole. Then he would slide the tip of his dick around for a second before sticking it back in.
As he got more turned on he started fucking me deeper and deeper until his entire cock was inside of me. I felt his sweaty stomach pounding against me while his hands wrapped around my neck.
Yeah kid, I’m gonna fucking fill you up he said as he started pounding me painfully hard, preparing to explode inside me.
It was then that I thought about the pills and then, like a spark of the way things once were, the barbed wire fence behind my house and the way my mom used to look as she and the dogs crossed over it into the open, empty pasture land.
Yes, things have been much better ever since I quit. I have been feeling happier and more at peace. Last Sunday, when the decision was made, I actually felt my mental state change from depression to complacency over the course of a few hours. In order to affirm my decision, I contacted all of the sites I was on and told them that I was 17 and that my lawyer would be taking legal action if the profiles were not removed.
I was trying to douse my bridges with gasoline and not just burn them, but completely obliterate them.
Thing is, questions have arose. Once my stash of money runs out, I have nowhere else to turn. The last week I have been taking a jab at modeling. Most photographers want to take naked photographs of me, and I am not sure whether I want to do that or not. Escorting may be bad but it’s a transient thing – once the act is over it exists only in memory. Naked photographs will continue to exist for decades.
Besides money troubles, I am having a really difficult time “reclaiming my virginity.” My goal was to cease being sexually active for awhile, but sex seems to follow me around. I have a good friend named Ron who I saw this past Saturday. He and I got drunk and talked about love and justice and bullshit like that. During the conversation I mentioned that I had done some escorting, but that I had quit and I was now on the path to salvation.
Quickly his demeanor changed. He became flirtatious. I let him rub my body, but didn’t let it progress any further. After a few minutes, while I was lying on my stomach, I felt him pull my boxers down. When I reached back to pull them up, I felt his hard dick pushing against my ass. I stood up and told Ron that I didn’t want to hook up.
Ron felt embarrassed and pretended to fall asleep quickly as though someone had knocked him over the head with a hammer.
These assholes keep chasing sex. Like insects to electric lights. Zap Zap Zap.
It’s just hard sometimes to live in a place like Florida. It’s so god damned flat. If someone was to run away from you crying in an open field, they wouldn’t disappear from view behind a hill like in other states. No, they would remain in your field of vision until they rounded the very curvature of the earth.
I have been feeling depressed lately. Life seemingly has no meaning – although I know that it must. I have spent hours and hours of my time searching youtube – watching hours of video about spirituality and God and his existence or lack thereof.
Overall, I am feeling unfulfilled. I seek sexual attention from others, hoping that their desire to be with me and have me will quench my insatiable thirst. I have done this with escorting the last 9 months – and, as would be expected, this method has failed me. In fact, it has done much more than fail me. It has thrown gasoline into the flames.
I just walked over to Borders, hoping that reading books would refocus my mind and help me forget my anxieties. While there I was suddenly struck with an idea that I have been fighting off for months now – how in the fuck do I expect to get better when I am a whore?
And not just a metaphorical whore, but an actual whore.
I got into this is the first place because I was lazy and thought it would be the best way to make money while in turn doing the least work. In that sense I succeeded. A little over a hundred hours of work has brought me somewhere between 20 and 25 thousand dollars of hard, undivided cash.
And yet I feel terrible. Because deep down I do not want to be a whore. I do not want to be a commodity. I do not want to be a mindless body that older men jack off to.
Often I enjoy fucking clients. Sometimes it is a so-so experience. Other times it is completely miserable.
I have sold myself out, allowed disgusting men to suck me off, jack me off and feel my insides. And for what? Money? I don’t even need money! Sure, it’s nice to have it, but I have done little with it other than pay my rent and buy groceries and drinks on the weekend.
I’m a man. I’m not a kid anymore. I can’t brush off my actions as immaturity or exploration because I know better and I was raised better.
I am a gay man living in an unaccepting (though improving) world. And while it may be a double standard, gay men are looked down upon more for promiscuity, drug usage and prostitution – perhaps because many expect it.
I want to be a healthy gay man. I want to set a good example. I have already fallen into the trap of drug addiction. I pulled myself out, only to discover the equally deep hole that sex and money can dig.
I am terrified for my future. I don’t know how I will make money now. Of course I will get a job, but the money won’t be even remotely as good – atleast not for years. For once, I will actually have to drag my ass through life.
I’m good looking. I’m a good person. I’m smart. I know these things. There has to be a place for me in this world, and prostitution is not it.
I am not denouncing other escorts. If someone can do it and look in the mirror without feeling shame, more power to them. But I am not that kind of person. I am not that strong and I don’t have the spiritual and emotional foundation neccessary to carry out a double life without regret.
I have lied to every person I know. I will never be able to openly discuss what I did in the last 9 months – not to my friends, my family, my future children, anybody. So, in a sense, I will always have to lie about it, but atleast I’m closing this awful chapter to my life and hopefully opening up something immensely more fulfilling – a life where people like me for more than my looks and where sex is as sacred and powerful as it is meant to be.
Allen called me a few days ago. We had tried and failed to meet up a few times before. Finally, this Thursday, we both had ample free time.
I drove over to his house and worried about the same thing I always worry about whenever I meet a new client – will he bite my cock off?
I know it’s an irrational fear – and google news searches have come up dry – but I have had this longstanding fear that someone giving me head will suddenly be struck by the desire to chew my dick off.
I picture myself hitting the guy in the head until his jaws open. In my better fantasies the guy spits my dick out and runs. In my more frightening visions, the guy looks at me with a smile and then begins chewing.
I pulled through a guard gate and entered my clients neighborhood. It’s on a private island with only a handful of outrageously big and expensive houses.
When I got to the address he gave me I was amazed. I’ve met clients in mansions before, but none like this. The driveway had a large fountain and four or five hummers, porsches and six-digit priced motorcycles.
I waited outside his house until the front door finally opened. Allen was a decent looking man in his late forties. I could tell that he had been handsome when he was younger by his high cheekbones and his sharp, black eyes.
He opened a $500 bottle of wine and we drank and discussed politics. Allen was Cuban and his political beliefs were also Cuban. He mentioned that he had houses across the world – including two in Columbia.
I wondered then where he had gotten all of his money…
After conversing he complimented my maturity and my ability to discuss things other than jello shots and GHB.
He asked if I wanted to see the rest of the house. His hand grasped ahold of mine and we walked through the house room by room. I noticed a huge rifle in the hallway. I also saw a bread box big enough to hide Anne Frank.
We ended up on his balcony, overlooking his pool, dock, yacht and the city skyline. Looking out, I wondered what was happening behind each little square window. High rise windows are like television screen with a different story unfolding behind each one. Maids folding sheets, kids pissing on each other, moms and dads having awkward dinner conversations.
I told Allen this, and he leaned against me and began petting my hair. I could tell that he wanted true companionship, not just a one night fuck. He gazed into my eyes with such intensity that it made me laugh.
A cold breeze kicked up and drove us inside onto a couch. We sat quietly while Allen ran his hands over my pants until I had a boner. Then he struggled to get my belt and my pants off. While he did that, I took off my shirt and socks off.
Eventually I was ass naked. Allen stared at me and then,without breaking eye contact, moved down and began sucking me off. I squirmed around while he nibbled at the head of my dick and sucked my balls.
“Nice dick” he said.
I looked up and moaned a little while he blew me. Then I felt his lips up against my neck. I turned my head down and looked at Allen, his gaze still focused right through me and down into my wispy soul.
“So, what do you like to do?” he asked.
As he was talking I looked down and saw his dick. I saw that it was uncircumized. Immediately, bad memories of unclean clients came rushing to my consciousness.
“I like getting sucked, getting rimmed and getting fucked” I said, with special emphasis on the middle option.
“So you like getting sucked and fucked” he repeated.
“Yes, and rimmed” I said.
He processed what I said and then asked me to stand up. I did, and then I felt his lips run over my ass cheeks. He kissed the top of my ass and then ran his tongue down my hip. Then he licked a little farther in. I was hoping he would eat my ass, but instead he grabbed my sides and turned me around.
I was a little annoyed that his tongue wasn’t in the crack of my ass – but I know rimming isn’t everyones forté .
He sucked my cock a little more while I visualized the nonexistent rimjob. Then he intertwined his fingers with mine and led me into his bedroom. We kissed on his king sized bed while I stroked his dick – hoping that a handjob would suffice in place of a blowjob.
“I want to fuck you” he said forcefully. “I want to feel your insides.”
Most clients dirty talk, but they usually only mumble. Allen was better at it.
“Yeah” I said. “I want you to fuck me too. I want you to fill me up.”
“Really?” Allen said. “Because I have been fantasizing about fucking you ever since I saw your ad. I looked at thousands of ads and you’re the only person I called.”
Few compliments are as satisfying as that.
“I’m not big into muscle queens” he continued, “or guys on steroids or porn stars. I wanted a real boy – the kind I wanted to fuck in highscool.”
I bit Allen’s lip in response and then rolled off of him.
“Fuck me” I said, my hands and knees on the bedspread, my eyes transfixed on his.
Allen grabbed some lube and rubbed it over my ass. A few of his fingers slipped in and soon he was probing my prostate. His other hand, slopping wet with excess lube, was twisting over my cock. The two in conjunction felt nice, but I’ve never been a big fan of fingers in my ass.
I heard crackling plastic as he put a condom on, and then I felt pressure against my ass. He pushed hard against me, but nothing went in. He tried for a bit longer and then moved back.
“You make me nervous” he said. “Why do you make me so nervous?”
“It’s normal” I said, trying to ease his fears. “Everyone gets nervous. I think you’ve done surprisingly well.”
“Oh, but I want to fuck you so bad” he cooed. “Your ass is so tight. I want to feel it from the inside.”
Again I felt his fingers work there way into my ass. I braced myself and tried to pretend the feeling was that of pleasure and not discomfort.
“I want to romance you” Allen began. “I like you and I want to take care of you. Do you like being taken care of?”
“I love it” I said.
“Good, because I want to romance you. I want to take you out to dinner. I want to take you out on my boat. I want to buy you clothes. Do you like it when guys buy you clothes?”
“Oh yeah” I said, breathing a little harder from the handjob he was giving me.
“Yeah. I want to be your daddy. I want to buy you stuff and take care of you. Oh yeah, do you like IKEA?”
I could tell he was jacking himself off now by the way he spoke.
“Yeah, I fucking love IKEA.”
“Good” he continued, seemingly turned on by his own voice. “Well I’m gonna take you to IKEA and I’ll let you buy whatever you want. Then I want to take you to the mall and then out to someplace nice for dinner.”
“Fuck yeah” I said. “Fucking take me to IKEA.”
Allen continued. I thought I had struck gold.
After he told me he was going to buy me everything a kid like myself would ever want, he flipped me around and then lay himself down beside me. We both jacked off while he continued talking.
“Yeah, you’re so beautiful. I want to buy you things. I want to take care of you. Oh yeah.”
“Oh yeah do it” I said.
We cotinued talking and masturbating until I felt an orgasm coming on.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum” I said.
“Yeah” he said in his deep voice, “cum in my mouth.”
The orgasm was already taking hold and my muscles were barely under my control. I tried to move my crotch up so he could suck my dick, but the rush of pleasure overtook me.
Allen sat up and grabbed my dick right as the cum started shooting out.
“Thats fucking hot” he said before putting my pulsing dick into his mouth.
He sucked on it while my legs squirmed. He sucked on my cock like a straw until it was dry. Then he began moaning and rubbing his dick more quickly. He got louder and then he arched his back as he began to cum. I reached over and rubbed his balls, which I could feel throbbing and pushing out semen.
When we were done, I curled up into his shoulder while he stared up into the ceiling. We talked a little bit more and then I asked where the shower was.
I jumped in the shower and did my best cleaning up. The water was at a set temperature which was no colder than molten lava.
I was jabbing parts of my body into the shower quickly and then pulling them out as though the water was sparking electricity. My shower dance was interrupted for a second when Allens hand reached through the curtain and grabbed my ass.
“You have such a nice ass” he said. “I want to fuck it next time.”
When I was done showering Allen told me that he had work the next day. Taking the hint, I dressed myself and grabbed my keys, phone and cigarettes.
Allen walked me out, and again told me how much he wanted to romance me. As I was leaving he moved in to kiss me. I opened my mouth, but all Allen did was give me a peck.
He waved me goodbye and then I left. I texted him and thanked him for calling me.
He never responded.
A good-looking guy sat next to me in the exit row. I hate planes and I’m usually not one for conversation while flying through the air in a metal coffin, but the guy next to me seemed friendly and interesting.
For some reason I love lying to people on airplanes and in taxi cabs.
I greeted him and asked where he was going. His face lit up and he made eye contact with me in a way that made me suspect he was after my balls.
We spoke for a bit, and then he asked where I was from.
I used to love reading World Books and I won all three Geography Bee’s in middle school, so I am pretty good at faking hometowns.
“Toronto” I replied.
“Really!” he said with such joy. “I’m from Toronto too! What part”
I used to love Toronto, for whatever reason, so I was able to dissect the city a little further.
“North York” I responded.
“Me too!” he said, his little laugh chiming in afterward. “Where in North York?”
“Kind of on the border of North York and Scarborough” I said, quickly realizing that I had pronounced the latter name incorrectly.
“Me too!” he almost yelled. “What section?”
My mind could not go any further. I was completely unfamilair with the subdivisions.
“By the police station” I said, hoping to quickly change the subject.
“Me too!” he yelled. “Where exactly?”
“Oh, I haven’t been home in years now,” I replied. “The city has changed so much I can hardly tell it apart from Hamilton!” I said, thinking my remark was a tiny little spark of a joke.
The guy next to me threw his head back in laughter, his pink gums reflecting the overhead lights.
I ended the conversation and tried to fall asleep – dreaming about TWA Flight 800.
When the plane landed, my phone beeped with new text messages and voice mails. One insistent client had called me over a dozen times.
I called him and we agreed to meet that evening.
His voice on the phone was smooth, masculine and singed with a Spanish accent. I had received pictures via e-mail of a perspective client a week before, so I assumed this was the same guy. The Spaniard in the pictures was young, good looking and athletic.
Around sunset I smoked outside my building and flirted with a girl that lives across the hall from me. Audrey is a nice looking blond girl with big tits. If I had an ounce of pussy-loving in me I’d fuck her until the stars turn blue.
I can tell she likes me, so I feed it. She touched my arm and laughed at my jokes.
A car pulled up and I told her my uncle had come to see me. She left and I stood in place, preparing for my new client.
The first thing I noticed was a handicapped card hanging from his rear view mirror. I knew then that this was not the same guy I saw in the e-mails.
The door swung open and out fell a little old man. He used a big metal walker and moved as though one leg was a wooden plank.
For a moment I pondered over handicapped sex and wheelchaired blowjobs. Then I smiled while my inner disgust quickly rose and then receded.
I greeted my client and helped him up the stairs and into my apartment. I prayed he wanted to do nothing more than watch me jack off.
In my room he very slowly undressed himself and then tumbled into my bed. I sat at the head of the bed and smoked an imaginary cigarette.
“I want you to fuck me” he said in a voice that didn’t match his appearance.
“I don’t fuck on first dates” I responded quickly.
“Oh, well then what do you do?” he asked.
“Stuff” I said, sulking in the knowledge that I wasn’t satisfying a client. I try to pleasure people as best I can, so I dislike it when I fail.
He wanted to suck my cock, so I put my hands behind my head and let him go at it. My dick was soft at first, but it grew as his tongue swirled over it.
I imagined other people when he pushed my dick against my stomach and slid his lips down to my balls.
I let him suck me for a long time. When he tired, I offered to suck him. He agreed and slowly flipped himself over so I could access his little peepee.
I gave him the best blow job I could muster – sucking as hard and fast as I could. In between breaths I rubbed my tongue through his balls and twisted my hand over his dick. I could tell he was going to cum after 30 seconds or so, so I pulled my face back and jacked him off until he squirted.
Afterwards he wanted to lye with me and talk. He asked where I was from.
“Alaska” I said. “Fairbanks, Alaska.”
Ike and Ivan are eccentric as fuck, and that’s what I like about them.
Once I got to their place, they asked me to strip naked and stand on their little private beach. A huge winter swell had rolled in the night before, so huge waves were barreling just offshore and washing up to my ankles. The breaking waves were so loud that it was hard to hear what Ike and Ivan were saying. At first they spoke only to each other while I stood there – the sun burning my ass and already sunburnt shoulders.
I twisted myself around after a minute or so and watched the frothy waves. I hadn’t surfed in two years and I was getting antsy. I wanted to leave and go grab my surfboard (ok, I lied, my body board) and look down a fifty foot barrel, but I had other obligations.
Then I felt a few fingers reach into my ass crack. I kept looking out towards the ocean. Then I felt a dick poke my ass.
“Come over here,” Ike said.
I turned around and was led over to a beach towel tossed carelessly onto the sand.
“Lie down on your stomach,” Ike continued.
I rearranged the corners of the beach towel for a second and then got onto my stomach. I could feel the hot sand through the fabric of the towel. I tried to keep my feet up in the air to avoid the burning sand, but someone’s hands pushed them down into the white lava.
“Ow, the sand is as hot as molten magma,” I said, half-joking.
Ike and Ivan erupted in laughter. I laughed for a second with them, and then realized that the joke was on me.
“You’ll be fine, kid.”
I let my body adjust to the heat, and then I planted my face into the towel and prepared to do nothing but focus on the physical sensations.
First I felt hands slowly moving up my leg. I love getting touched by doctors whenever I get a physical, and this felt similar.
My dick got hard. It hurt because it was being pushed into the ground beneath my body. I adjusted my position so that my cock was pointing up past my belly button.
Then I felt two hands pull my ass cheeks apart. I could feel the sun on the inside of my ass and I wondered if it was possible to get an asshole sunburn.
Then I felt a tongue slide down the crack of my ass. And then another.
Oh fuck yes, nothing feels better than a nice rimjob. I rested my face in between my elbows while Ike and Ivan ate my ass. They stuck their tongues deep enough inside me that I momentarily questioned whether it was their tongues or their dicks that were raping my backside.
I could feel both of their mouths swirling around at the same time. At times I felt teeth as they nibbled at the meat of my ass Ted Bundy style.
I was worked up and ready to get fucked for the first time in over a month. While they were licking my ass I turned myself over so I could reach my dick.
The two hungry men stopped sucking my ass when it was out of range and went straight for my cock like a band of Moray eels before I could get my hands on it. One would suck the shaft of my cock while the other would position his head so he could lick my balls. I almost squirted (a rarity for me during oral sex) but was able to fend off the orgasm with thoughts of dead people and female ejaculations.
“Can we fuck you?” Ike, the possessor of a big penis, asked.
“Please fuck me,” I demanded rather politely.
This was one of those moments where fucking bareback sounded so good – but I knew better. Ike did as well, and he rolled a condom over his big, thick cock before I had to ask.
Ivan, always the little helper, rubbed some lube onto my ass and stuck a bit of it inside me with his fingers. I didn’t like the feeling of his fingers in me, squirming around like earthworms.
But soon enough his digits were out and Ike was pressing down on his cock and holding onto my knee with his other hand. His dick slid in quickly. It filled me up and also hurt, so I asked him to not move. Usually I have guys pull out, but I loved the feeling of his dick in me, even with the pain.
Ike said that he could feel my ass clamping down on his cock. I meditated for a few seconds until I was adjusted to the feeling.
“Alright, now fuck me,” I said.
Ike started pounding me hard. His dick went all the way in until I could feel his pubes against my skin. The deeper strokes hurt a little, but the pounding felt amazing.
I was jacking my cock off until I felt a stubbly face against my knuckles. I let go and felt Ivan’s warm lips slide around my cock. He ever so slowly slid my whole dick down his throat, then moved his head back just as slowly.
Then he sped up and started sucking my dick like a porn star. For a moment or two I wasn’t sure whether I was cumming or not because the feeling of one guy fucking me and one guy sucking me was new and unbelievably pleasurable. Then I realized that yes, I was cumming.
Ikes big dick was hitting all the right spots as I came. I’m sure my eyes rolled into the back of my head while Ivans mouth filled with my cum.
I felt the last few thrusts turn from incredible pleasure to uncomfortable sensitivity. Then I asked them both to stop.
Ivan got up and walked over to a bush. Then he spat out my semen as though it was boiling acid. He hawked and spit and hawked again.
“Murderer!” I wanted to yell as I ran over to the white juice dangling from the leaves on the bush. “Now how are the sperms gonna find a home, huh? What kind of bush has eggs!”
In reality I lay back and let the hot sun bake my tired body for a little bit longer. I could hear Ike jacking off over me, and then I felt his warm sperm shoot all over my stomach.
We all took a few more breaths and then walked down to the ocean to clean off.
Again I could hear the sperms being killed by the salt water.
“I was going to be a scientist” one said.
“And me, I could have been a novelist” another said in a thick, British drawl.
Afterwards we all dressed and had a few drinks in their kitchen. I told them I was leaving the next day. They told me they would fly over to see me on the East Coast.
Even though I had told them that I didn’t want to get paid, they still gave me my hourly rate. I pretended to decline a few times, knowing that they would insist.
Then I grabbed the money and went to the nearest grocery store to buy a red Gatorade and a baked chicken.
I don’t know what to do with myself these days. My two good friends left to go back to school, so I am left here to fend for myself. There is a clew of worms that I’ve been hanging out with lately, but they have fairly dull personalities.
So my new best friend is Claudette, the underage scorpion that trolls my house at night. I’ve only seen Claudette twice, but those two times were quite magical.
My life has been incredibly uneventful the last few weeks. I’ve been doing nothing but making sand dams at the beach during the day and drinking beer at night. Uneventful, that is, until this morning.
My cellphone woke me up around 7. I saw that the number was restricted but decided to answer anyway. Turns out the call was from a client. Two clients to be exact. They were roommates who lived only a few miles away from my house.
First I spoke to Ivan, who told me that he and his friend had been trying to contact me for days. I apoligized for any inconvenience and yawned while he described his fanatsy to me.
I fell asleep for a few seconds, so I missed the gist of what he said, but I know that he wanted to have a threeway with his roommate and myself.
Then his roommate grabbed the phone and asked if I could meet them in an hour or less.
I agreed and rolled out of bed and into the shower. Then I steamrolled into the kitchen and ate some Honey Bunches of Oats and a banana.
I knew I didn’t have to get overly dressed since the weather was hot and the guys lived in a beachhouse with no nearby neighbors.
I put on a bathing suite, left my shirt behind and lazily drove the few minute drive down a windy mountain road to the coast.
Ivan and Ike let me in through a private gate and then pulled me out of my car.
“I could eat this boy for days,” Ike said.
“Mmmm, look at this,” Ivan said as he grabbed my ass and walked me in through their front door.
I was already horny. I love it when guys talk about me as if I’m not there. It’s the kind of objectification that I like.
The guys walked me through their incredibly nice house without saying a word. Ike grabbed a bottle of lube and we all walked out through a glass slider door down onto a little private beach.
I felt a little tired and hot from the sizzling sun, but I was also incredibly horny.
“Get naked,” Ike said.
I took off my swimsuite. A cool little breeze blew across my ass and balls, and I could feel the sun shining down on my hard dick.
Ike and Ivan looked at me for a few seconds, then walked over to inspect me.
“Nice boy,” Ivan kept saying as ran his hands across my ass and ever so lightly over my dick.
They both pulled apart my ass cheeks and I could feel one or both of their tongues lap up inside of there a few times.
“Very, very nice boy,” Ivan said a final time as he slapped my ass hard.
I was about as horny as I could be. I felt like dropping my rate or completely eliminating it so that I could see these guys more often.
Ivan and Ike talked for a bit about what they wanted to do to me while I stood out in the hot sun, my feet sinking into the sand.
“I wanna eat that ass,” Ivan said.
“Ill suck his cock,” Ike said.
I remained standing while both men kneeled down, one behind me and one infront of me.
Ivan rubbed my ass a little bit more and complimented it’s roundness before I felt him dig his tongue in. I let out a little moan as he licked and sucked like a dog, the tiny prickles of hair on his face adding to the sensation.
Next I felt a warm mouth wrap around my cock. Both men were eating me at the same time. Both were incredibly good and aggressive with their tongues.
I bent over a little and put my hands on Ike’s back so that his friend could have full access to my ass. I could feel a few fingers being stuck in their along with his tongue. Normally I don’t like foreign fingers up my ass, but in conjunction with the rimjob and the blowjob it was heavenly.
Both of them sped up their movements. I felt pleasure radiating out from so many places I wasn’t sure what to do. If both of them weren’t keeping me supported with their hands, I may have melted and seeped into the sugar sand.
I sort of faded out for a few seconds and remembered this one time I was talking to to this bitch about earthquakes. There was a huge earthquake near where my parents lived, and I had been home to experience it. I was talking to a woman who lived hundreds of miles away from the epicenter, whereas I had been within ten miles of it.
“The shaking was violent,” she told me. “All of the dishes rattled and the walls were creaking.”
“Oh really,” I said, “well at my house we lost almost all our windows and the shingles were shaken off of the roof.”
“Oh my,” she responded, “but where I live the ground is really wet so the shaking was even more violent.”
“Fuck you” I wanted to yell.
My mind did a movie cut back to the beach. I could hear Ike telling Ivan about the taste of my precum while he jacked off my cock with his hand.
I knew that this was heaven. When I die I want to go to a beach where I get a rimjob and a blowjob all daylong while I eat a bowl of cereal.
“I’m gonna cum,” I heard Ivan yell as he stood up. I couldn’t see him, but after a few moments of panting I could feel his hot cum shoot out onto my ass.
Before he was done I could feel Ike’s mouth clench around my cock. I looked down and cum came drooling out onto the sand from his big, uncircumsized dick.
Both men held their positions and struggled to breath for a few seconds. Then Ivan took one last bite at my ass.
They paid me, plus a huge tip. I told them that they could see me again whenever they wanted, free of charge. Ivan told me that he would call me again once they were free.
As I was leaving their house Ike offered me a ginger beer.
I grabbed it and took a huge sip.
“Delicious,” I yelled.
“You earned it, kiddo.”
“Let’s have a threeway!” Katrina yelled!
There we were, our stomachs being eaten away by the Hard A that we drank without a chaser. I have had drunk friends say the same thing in the past, but they were always joking. And if they were not joking, the other guy was never willing to have sex with a gay guy.
The guy with us was Hugo.
Hugo is a highly impressionable yet incredibly sexual 18 year old. I used to drink with his friends a few years back in highschool. Sometimes Hugo would show up and drink with us, but he was always very silent.
Since I’ve been gone to college he has evolved into an incredibly outgoing, well-liked guy. He wears dark clothes and has grown a few inches.
I have heard that he fucks lots of girls and that he likes anal sex. I remember jacking off right after I was told that, wishing I could be a fly on his balls.
“I’m on birth control,” Katrina continued, “and you two don’t have to touch each other.”
“Well then what the fuck am I going to do?” I asked.
“We’ll figure it out” Katrina said.
I tried to imagine what we could do. I didn’t want to fuck Katrina, so I would have to either eat her pussy while Hugo fucked her ass or have her suck my dick while he fucked her.
Hugo didn’t say anything and I realized that Katrina and I had gotten carried away without even making sure that he was alright with the plan.
He was drunk and staring into space. Then he looked up at me with a smile and said “don’t fuck my ass.”
I smiled at him – “Don’t worry.com”
Hugo, drunk and obviously horny, went straight for Katrina’s pants. He pulled down her jeans and exposed her stomach, which had grown fatter and whiter since the last time I had seen her. It looked horrible to me, but boner-licking good to Hugo.
Then he pulled down her panties. I was knocked back by the swarm of screaming bats that flew out of her nether regions, along with the centipedes and scorpions that came parading out of her mostly unshaved pubic hair.
I nearly blacked out with horror. I often expect myself to black out nano-seconds before being exposed to ghastly things.
“What do ya think of these, my man?” Katrina said (not really) as she pulled her bra off. I nearly blacked out and woke up in the ICU.
Luckily I didn’t loose conciousness at the sight of her boobs, which were actually nicer and firmer than I expected.
I felt obliged to play with Katrina a little, so I licked her nipples and then squeezed imaginary oranges over her boobies while I tugged at her lips with my teeth.
Hugo ate Katrina’s “meat curtain” while I dealt with her upper body.
When her “veil chops” had been thoroughly licked, Hugo got onto his knees and played with his dick a little until it was fully erect.
I had to look at it. It was one of the nicest cocks I had ever seen – very thick and big. He grabbed the base of it and swung it up and down a few times until it became too rigid to bend. Then he grinned at me.
Part of me wanted to drive home right then and go study Wicca so that I could cast a spell of Hugo and make his cock mine. But that would take time, I wanted his cock in me right then.
He played with Katrinas pussy for a bit with his fingers, and then shoved his cock into her. He never put a condom on, but I’m assuming thats what Katrina intended when she mentioned being on birth control earlier.
Katrina did the usual I’m-a-girl-and-a-cock-just-entered-me gasp. Then, like I expected, she started moaning and playing with her nipples while Hugo plowed her.
I wasn’t sure what to do at that point. I could picture Katrina telling the story to her friends later – “Oh, it was amazing! Hugo pounded me like a jackhammer while Cyrus massaged my scalp. The two combined really brought me to orgasm quite quickly.”
I rested my elbows over Katrina’s stomach and stared down at all of the in and out action. I could tell that Hugo was a good lay by the way he fucked her. It wasn’t fair that I had to sit back and watch.
I watched a little more and then feared that Hugo was going to orgasm, effectively ruining my chances of touching his pee pee.
I brainstormed how I could get his cock in my ass or mouth, but couldn’t come up with any bright ideas. Finally, I decided to employ the who-gives-a-fuck strategy.
I pinched Hugo’s shoulder and asked “What am I supposed to do? I’m a cocksucker.”
Hugo thrusted into Katrina a few more times and then withdrew his dick and then shook it up and down appetizingly.
“Suck it” he said.
It was one of those heaven on earth moments. I looked at his big cock and wondered if it would taste like pussy. For that matter, I wasn’t even sure what pussy tasted like.
I pulled at his dick and then took the whole thing in my mouth. It was so big and filling in my throat, I thought I was going to have a face orgasm.
Hugo didn’t make any sounds of pleasure, but he did put a hand on the back of my head.
I sucked at his dick and didn’t notice any peculiar taste.
Then I heard Katrina say “Oh god, guys, thats hot.”
I wanted to shoot her in the face, but instead I just kept on sucking. I lifted his cock up and was able to get a few licks at his big balls before I felt him pull his dick away.
He went on fucking Katrina and I sat back feeling annoyed. My cock, however, was far from annoyed. It was pushing out of my pants and up into the solar system.
I wanted Hugo to pull out his cock again, but he never did. He fucked and fucked for nearly 30 minutes yet never had an orgasm. I guess all of the booze held the spermies back at gunpoint.
I know my tight, warm ass would have made him cum. Not some lowly vagina.