Collegehookerboy’s Hot and Disturbing Weblog

Goddamnit

I looked in the mirror this morning, and again was greeted by my arch nemesis, Razor burn. Every fucking time I shave my stomach (even just a wee little bit) or anus I am soon engulfed in a red fire of dots. It’s a condition I must somehow deal with - a perpetual case of the chicken pox.

After I noticed the burn this morning, I collapsed onto the cold, tile floor and flailed my arms as though I was fending off a swarm of aggressive bats.

I can hear the razor burn(s) talking, in its insidious, childlike voice. “Wee! Cyrus’s smooth, fertile skin is a great place for us to grow and play! Yipeeee!”

Last night I had sex with one of the biggest gay porn producer/directors in the US - I’ll call him David. David e-mailed me a few days ago and asked me if I wanted to be in one of his movies. I briefly entertained the thought and then decided against it. Then he told me that he wanted to see me anyways.

His house was beautiful - the Orlando Bloom of houses - dreamy, sexy and zealous. David, on the other hand, would best be compared to the rusty shed in his backyard - old, round and covered with a thick, leathery bark.

I felt a sense of shame when I pulled my shirt off over my head - fearing David would immediately notice the red dots on my stomach. “This is what I payed for?” he might say, “I spit on you. Spew!”

If he did notice them, his actions didn’t show it.

I couldn’t get it up with him, so he gave me a Viagra. I lay on the bed as David licked my ass and balls and desperately tried to jack my cock to life. I choked my man meat until it tired out and collapsed, like a slave being whipped on a cotton field, “Please Mista! No more! Please!!”

While my mind floated across the desolate cotton field, David grabbed a condom and pulled me by my legs so that my ass was hanging off the side of the bed. Then he started fucking me. I pretended that it was someone else fucking me - one of the hot guys I went to highschool with. I pretended that the cock inside me was big, thick and young. My imagination took over and finally my dick got hard.

David fucked me until I came. I hadn’t had an orgasm in a few days, so all the sperm bottled up in balls came blasting out. I pumped out a few long, thick streams of cum that covered my stomach and drowned my belly button.

Then David pulled out of me, ripped the condom off and come all over my stomach.

After we finished panting we took a shower and then talked for more than an hour. Getting to know about the porn industry from an insider was fascinating, but my eyes kept getting distracted by that dirty, filthy, ugly shed in his backyard.

I wrote a haiku:

Crystal dick feels

sharp like ice and soft like this

unused bed we’re in

I met up with Mike yesterday. He wasn’t a client, just a guy that I thought was cute. He mentioned before our meeting that he liked to party - meaning that he liked to do speed. The prospect of being with and/or possibly doing speed (more infamously known as Crystal Meth, but I find that term too fear provoking, so I say speed) with Mike made me nervous, but also a little excited. I rarely do drugs now (and I stay away from the ones I know I can’t do in moderation) but every once in a while I do indulge. I had smoked meth twice before - the first time was awesome and the second time sucked. Uppers were never really my drugs of choice - but even so I was bored as shit and so I decided to go ahead and drive to Mikes place.

Mike is attractive in an unconventional sense. He is four inches shorter than me, had a scruffy face and messy dark hair, black eyes and a nice, thick body. His voice was also deep and soothing - the kind of voice that exudes confidence and masculinity. I could tell he was a little tweaked out when I met him - his pupils were dilated and he looked a little rough - but in a way I also found it attractive. He convinced me that he is only an occasional user - a guy who uses only once every few weeks.

Mike, like many tweakers, becomes rabidly horny whenever hes high. Porn was playing on both his computer and his TV.

We went into kitchen and both took a few hits of speed. I felt the high come on immediately after blowing out the thick, white smoke. Unlike my childhood experience (described in my last entry), this time the drug didn’t make me feel euphoric. It made my body feel relaxed and jelly-like, and mentally I felt a mixture of anxiety and excitement.

I stripped to my briefs and sat next to him on a couch to watch porn. Eventually he pulled his boxers off, revealing a nice, thick cock. Maybe it was because I was high, but I thought his cock was mesmerizing.

As expected, I wasn’t able to get it up. Tweak acts like poison to an erection, creating a condition known as crystal dick. Even so, I was turned on and every time Mike brushed his hand across my penis I felt jolts of pleasure shoot up from my groin.

I stared at Mike as he jacked himself off. Eventually I couldn’t resist putting his dick in my mouth, so I moved my face in and pushed his hands off. I grabbed his dick and shook it a few times, letting it swing back and fourth in my hand. Then I licked the tip and backside a few times before I shoved it down my throat. I was easily able to deep throat his thick cock. Mike was very verbal the whole time - “Oh yeah that feels good.” I’d look up at him and say “Yeah? You like that?” and then swallow his whole cock again.

I coughed at one point while I was sucking him off. The force of the cough was squeezed around his cock - musically changing the cough into a nasally squeak.I felt like looking up at him and saying “Yeah, you like it when I give you head even though I have walking phenomonia? Well do you!”

We moved to the bed after a few hours (time was flying).

Mike fingered my ass a little bit and then pushed my legs up so he could rim me. It felt so fucking good having him push his tongue against my ass and lick it up and down.

Still I couldn’t get hard, but I was turned on anyway.

Then I blew mike again. This time he was more aggressive - pushing my head down until my lips were pressed against his pubes.

Then he rolled me on my side and ran his cock up and down my ass. I could feel every detail of his cock against my ass. I wanted him to stick it in so bad.

Then he grabbed my hair and pulled my head around. I brushed my lips across his face and neck, trying to see if he wanted to kiss or not. He looked at me and then looked down at his cock rubbing against my ass. Then he grabbed my head and pushed me close so we could kiss. He licked my tongue while I bit on his lip. He pulled at my hair so hard that the pain was almost unbearable, but at the same time it felt strangely good.

I sucked his cock again until my mouth was sore. By this time it was already late at night (I had first gotten to his place at 2pm). When I was done sucking him off Mike told me he was tired. I thought ‘Yeah fucking right, you’re high on speed’ but understood what he meant. I wasn’t tired but I felt physically worn out.

Mike told me that he really wanted to see me again and I believed him. Then I got dressed and left his place to make the long drive home.

I was fifteen years old, maybe fourteen. My hair was short and blonde and my chest had rib bones like zebra stripes. I was skinny, incredibly skinny, though not as skinny as I had been before.

It was during this awkward transition phase that I befriended Kyle. Kyle wasn’t exactly gothic, but his very presence diffused a sense of dreariness. He was pale, had messy black hair and black, piercing eyes.

He and I were both unpopular freshman at the Academy. We both became pariahs because we were too awkward to hang out with the jocks and too confident to hang out with the loosers.

I started sleeping over at Kyles house on the weekends. We would laugh, talk shit about everyone we knew, play on his Playstation, and wrestle each other. He was more than a year older than me and considerably stronger – so whenever we wrestled he would always have me pinned before I could even hit the ground. Then he would sit on top of my chest so that his crotch was right in my face and smile down at me. “Suck my dick” he would say. Of course I had to respond as though there was a centipede in his pants – “Eww, No! You’re gay!”

One weekend we had absolutely nothing to do. Hours earlier we had been watching TV when all of a sudden *pop* - a transformer tower outside short circuited and a power surge blasted into the house. The TV crackled and went dead and the fan above us slowly spun to a halt.

So we were sitting in Kyles room, bored out of our minds, when he opened up one of his dresser drawers and fished out a pair of socks balled together. Inside the socks was a small metal pipe and a few pieces of something that looked like dried ice. “Its called ‘glass’” Kyle said. “My friend gave it to me and I tried it but it didn’t do shit. Wanna try it? Its supposed to be hella fun.”

I had never done any drugs before, and I felt nervous, but the name “glass” didn’t ring any bells in my Temporal Lobe so I thought ‘what the fuck?’

Kyle smoked it first. He took hit after hit until it was more than obvious that he was high as a kite. I plucked the pipe out of his quivering hand and took a big hit. Then I took a second hit and wham. The rush started in my stomach and quickly spread like a web through the rest of my body, energizing and relaxing every cell it touched.

Kyle and I ran around the neighborhood for more than an hour. We pretended to be super heroes as we jumped over fences, kicked down garbage cans and karate chopped pieces of straw. I had never felt so good in my life.

Sweat was pulsing out of my pores. After awhile I felt dirty and Kyle and I returned to his house. We decided to take a shower – together. I watched Kyle get naked first. He pulled his shirt off and revealed a perfectly V-shaped chest, complete with the beginning stages of a six-pack and two nice, square pecs. Then he pulled off his underwear. His ass was perfectly pale, round and smooth and his thighs were thick and meaty.

“Quit staring at me and get naked” he said, to my embarrassment. I gingerly removed my clothes and then joined him in the shower. He was arching his head back underneath the falling water, his front side facing me. I tried to force myself to look different directions, but my eyes were magnetized by his dick. I looked at it and saw that it was getting hard. It was incredibly nice looking, pale and thick like the rest of his body.

Eventually my eyes were able to break free and look up at Kyle’s face, which was staring straight at me. ‘Oh shit’ I thought, ‘He saw me staring at his cock.’ Instead of mocking me he just slapped my ass and moved behind me so I could shower. Unlike him, I faced towards the shower so he couldn’t see my dick, which was getting hard too.

I tried to think ugly thoughts to fight the erection. Shit, death, murder - nothing worked. I knew Kyle would think I was weird for showering so long, but I didn’t want him to see that I was turned on, even though he clearly had the same problem. I showered and showered and showered, not knowing what was going on behind me. Then I felt something poke the top of my ass. I knew what it was the second I felt it. Kyle put his hands on my shoulders and started rubbing my muscles, which were as hard and tense as uncut diamonds. I was terrified and horny as hell.

He pushed his dick back and forth between my ass cheeks. I didn’t know much about gay sex at the time (sans the hundred hours of streaming gay porn I had already seen) but I somehow knew that I was the type of guy that liked to be dominated, the type of guy gay websites refer to as a bottom. Of course I was still months away from stepping out of the closet, so I tried to assure myself that what was occurring was just normal experimentation.

Kyle filled his hands with body wash and then poured it down my back. Then he rubbed it into a froth, starting at my shoulders and then slowly working down until he got to the top of my ass. Then he slid his soapy hands up and down my ass crack, moving them closer and closer with each swipe until he was doing nothing more than running his fingers in a circle around my asshole.

I moved my head back so that it was resting on Kyle’s shoulder. He kept one hand on my ass and moved the other one around so that he could jack me off. It felt so good having his hands touching me in two places at once. My fear and nervousness dissolved into the raining shower water and swirled down the drain.

I turned around and pushed my body up against Kyle’s so that both our dicks were pressed against each others stomachs. Kyle was a lot bigger than me. He was thicker, more muscular, and towered at least two inches over me. I liked being in the arms of a man, not just a little boy like myself. I let him rub his hands up and down my back and ass, and then I moved in to kiss him. He licked my lips a few times and then stuck his tongue down my throat. It was a real lustful kiss – devoid of all sensitivity and romanticism.

We pulled our faces apart and then Kyle looked down and whispered “Suck my dick.” Finally I didn’t have to pretend it was a deadly, sexless centipede. I got down onto the hard, tiled shower floor and looked at Kyle’s dick for a few seconds. It was big, thick and well shaped. A few big veins snaked up and down the length of his shaft, which was decorated with small beads of water.

I looked up at Kyle and saw that he had that same look on his face that he always had after he pinned me wrestling. I realized that his demonic smile was a look of longing, a look that said “I wanna fuck you.”

Still looking up at his face, I stuck my tongue out and licked the head of his dick one time, like a lollypop. Then I licked it a few more times - just small, quick licks. Then I put my lips around the top and pushed my head forward, taking in as much as I could.

I had never sucked a cock before, so my abilities were limited. I could only get about three or four inches into my mouth. I tried deep throating, but each time I would gag.

I still felt like I knew what I was doing. Watching porn had taught me a few things. I held onto the bottom of his dick and sucked on his cock as hard and fast as I could. Every once and awhile I would pull it out of my mouth, push it up against his stomach and lick his balls, which were big and hairless. Then I would trace my tongue all the way up the back of his cock before shoving it back into my mouth.

Kyle moaned. I gripped one hand tight against the top of his thigh and felt his muscles tightening.

His groans became louder and I felt my mouth fill up with semen. I swallowed all that there was, and then kissed the head of his drooling dick a few more times.

Then we got changed and went back to doing nothing.

I’ve had a low grade fever for nearly three weeks now. I remember the first morning I woke up sick. My alarm rang and as I scooted over in my bed to hit the snooze button I felt the familiar weakness that I normally associate with the flu.

My very first thought was “Oh fuck, its HIV.”

I have become consumed with fear ever since I had unprotected sex early last month (I fucked without a condom….). My anxiety had already been affecting my sleep, and now that I actually was sick my fear escalated to panic.

That morning I looked at myself in the mirror. Everything looked okay until I opened my mouth. The back of my tongue was coated in a thick, white sheet of bacteria. Now this isn’t the first time I have had a white tongue. Its actually a normal reaction to your body fighting off an infection, and I had seen it on myself many times before, but this time I felt that it was something different. I remembered being at Steaks apartment a few months before and noticing that my tongue was in the same condition. “So my tongue has been like this for a few months,” I realized. That couldn’t be normal.

Online I looked up HIV symptoms. I read that a fever is usually the first discernible sign, as well as a white tongue. I looked at pictures of HIV infected tongues on the internet and was terrified to see that they looked just like mine.

Then another weird thing happened. I stepped outside to smoke my first morning cigarette and was unpleasantly surprised when the first hit of smoke tasted nothing like the way its supposed to. My menthol light cigarettes suddenly tasted like burnt cough syrup. The taste was so disgusting that I couldn’t manage more than a few puffs. I tried different cigarettes in the pack to make sure it wasn’t just a rogue rotten one, but they all tasted the same.

I researched “altered sense of taste” on google and the first website that popped up was a Canadian HIV/AIDS organization. I was too terrified to research further - fearing that an altered sense of taste was a definitive sign of an HIV infection.

I also remembered that my skin had suddenly become a lot worse a few months ago, right around the time I first noticed the white stuff on my tongue. I thought I had paid my dues to the acne gods back in high school, but suddenly and unexplainably my acne returned, though only on my back.

I felt a little reassured when I realized that the acne and the white tongue pre-dated my unprotected sex by more than a month, but then I realized that there were a few times in the past when I could have been exposed:

-In August of 2006, as I wrote about in my blog “Drugs, Violence, Sex and Dreams,” I injected heroin with a needle given to me by a homeless drug addict.

-About three months ago, I had sex (for only the second time) with a guy who tried to fuck me (when I was too drunk to stand) bareback, though I had enough sense at the time to tell him to put a condom on. He did, but I couldn’t shake off the fear that maybe he had stuck his small cock in before I told him to stop.

-Also about three months ago, I had sex with a guy (which I wrote about in my blog “I fucked someone else….with VASOLINE“) who, though I watched him put a condom on, pulled out of me as he came. Why, I started fearing, would he have pulled out of me if he had a condom on? Perhaps he took it off like an asshole when I wasn’t looking.

I went to see a doctor after my fever didn’t dissipate and he suggested that maybe I have the beginning stages of pneumonia. I went through a five day antibiotic treatment to no avail. Then he put me on even stronger antibiotics, which also had no effect.

I know that viruses are not affected by antibiotics.

My fever was a roller coaster. Some days it would become so bad that I was nearly bed ridden, and other days I was able to function and work (hence my last six posts, which all took place since I have been sick.)

I was too afraid to get an HIV test. I imagined sitting in a crammed office with a doctor, and I pictured the awkwardness in his face when he is forced to tell me “You tested positive for HIV antibodies.” Maybe I would throw up in a nearby garbage can, to overrun with negative emotions to keep anything inside of me.

Then I imagined having to call my parents. I could hear my mom screaming when I sobbingly confessed that I had HIV.

I imagined having to tell all of my future lovers about my HIV status - and all my previous ones. Grant would surely never want to see me again.

I saw myself crying to my family, saying “I guess I won’t be able to have a family like I always wanted.”

Finally, I pictured myself in a hospital bed, thin and wasting away. The disease would eventually rob me of my good looks, and then I would die ugly and insignificant.

Finally, two days ago, I decided to go get tested at a free testing center in South Beach. I called the hotline and scheduled an appointment for the following day at noon. I had actually done the same thing two weeks before, but in the end I was too afraid and so I canceled.

The night before I had a panic attack. A full blown panic attack, the likes of which I haven’t seen in many years. I was sure that I was going to test positive. I imagined - how could I finish school or ever get a job when I know that its all futile, that eventually I am going to die young?

The day of the test I saw a client, the foot tickler guy, at 10am. As he tickled me into the seventh gates of hell I suddenly wanted to grow big and strong and break through the bondage lines, roar and pound my chest at the pedi-pervert, and smash through the wall of the bedroom, leaving a perfect imprint of me in the wall for his partner to find.

The INCESSANT tickling did little to take my mind off of the impending test.

I got to the CVS pharmacy, where the testing center was, and sat in the small waiting room. A black, transgendered women greeted me and then brought me into a small office. An oral swab was taken, and then she told me to return in twenty minutes for the results.

I paced around the block a few times, looking at the clock on my phone every two minutes. “How the fuck am I going to tell my parents?” I thought. “Who is going to have sympathy for yet another gay guy who yet again made some stupid decisions and got himself infected with HIV?”

I returned to the office and saw that the women who had tested me was smiling. I felt a euphoria wash over me. Then she said “It still needs one more minute. You’ll hear the beep when its done.”

I paced back and fourth in the small room until I heard the beep. Then I sat down next to her and started seeing spots in my vision.

“You’re test is negative” she said. “You see, if you were positive, there would be two lines here, but theres only one.”

Then I started sobbing. I cried long and hard. My voice was shaky but I was able muster out the words “Thank fucking god.”

PS: Does anyone know of any HIV volunteer programs that exist? I really want to join “the fight” or something equally gay sounding.

Martin was from up North. He called me a day in advance to schedule a meeting at his beach side hotel room. On the phone he was stoic, which made it difficult for me to make charming conversation.

I confirmed with him the following afternoon and then drove the half hour drive to see him. I bought a street parking pass from a homeless man, who lied to my face - “I just bought this ticket for four dollars but now my girlfriends gone and I don’t need it.”

“Yeah yeah Mr. I stole someone else’s credit card and bought a whole bunch of parking tickets and am now trying to sell them on the street to naive tourists, or intelligent locals like myself who know that you’ll take any price - including just a single dollar.” Sadly, I still paid him four dollars like an idiot when I could have bought a ticket five feet away for $3.

Anyways, I slithered into the quaint little hotel in my tight jeans, black collared shirt with rolled up sleeves and black beanie and by-passed the normally vigilant hotel security, who probably thought I was too well dressed to be any trouble.

I knocked on the hotel door and felt the normal wave of anxiety roll through me as a few seconds of silence ticked past. The door finally opened and a good looking, middle aged guy answered the door. He looked a lot like Christian Slater, only middle aged (because Slater will forever remain young in my eyes) and adorned with a pair of glasses.

We sat down on a couch, he offered me a Sprite (which I had requested earlier) and we started talking. Conversation was not easy with him. His initial statement to me was “God, you’re a lot taller than I expected you to be.”

But after awhile he warmed up and told me that he was married and had several young children. “You monster!” I wanted to say as I jumped out the five story glass window in my imagination.

Actually, the idea of a married, dorky yet attractive father seeking the companionship of a young boy kind of aroused me.

He told me that kissing and fucking were his two primary interests when he had paid company. After hearing that I moved my head towards his and started kissing him.

He enjoyed himself immensely as he removed my clothes, one item at a time, until I was left standing in my boxers. “Keep those on, “he said, “for now.”

We moved onto the bed. My dick got hard. He sucked me off for a few minutes and then said he wanted to fuck - not just one way, but in “three or more different positions.”

“Lets start with you on your side” he said. I handed him a condom and he unrolled it over his cock, which was quite large and nice looking.

It took awhile for my ass to accept it, but once it did I was having a precum-oozing good-time. He nibbled at my shoulders as he fucked me - he obviously was used to the intimate, married way of having sex.

I had to completely let go of my dick to keep myself from cumming. Even so I almost came from the shear pleasure of his dick pounding away at my ass.

Then he wanted to fuck in the shower. We tried but immediately found it to be nearly impossible.

We moved back to the bed and tried to fuck with me bent over the bed. This position was too painful and I couldn’t take it.

Then he wanted me to sit on top of him - a position that everyone wants to try with me. As always, I said no.

Then we lay in bed together for awhile. He told me I could play with his hole if I wanted to. I thought about it and assumed he had cleaned himself, so I went for it. Fingering him was okay - then he suggested I go ahead and try fuck him. I have never topped before, but I thought - “what the fuck?”

I put a condom on and pushed it into his ass. His asshole was so loose it didn’t feel like anything, probably the same sensation as sticking your dick into a bucket of mayonaise. There was hardly any friction. For a self-proclaimed top he sure seemed to have been well worn out- though he claimed he never got off from bottoming.

After a few minutes I decided to pull out. I did and then looked down at the condom.

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

It was covered in shit. Not just a little bit, I mean a lot of shit. I tried to hide the condom from him as he leaned toward me. Like a Charlie Chaplin skit, I was somehow able to swing it around so that I was holding onto it behind my back.

“Whats the matter?” he said. “Nothing!” I exclaimed.

I tried to think of a way to hide him from shame and embaressment. “Lets fuck again” I said. “Just lean over and grab a condom and lets get started.” He looked into my eyes and was about to turn around when he looked down at the bedspread. “Whats that?” he said. I saw that some of his shit had speckled onto the sheets.

“I don’t know” I said.

“Is it poop” he asked.

“I don’t know, I don’t even want to look at the condom” I lied. I through the condom onto the floor, hoping it would vaporize on impact. Instead it landed with a splat. He got up, picked it up and brought it into the bathroom.

Funny how I seemed more embarrassed than him, though I’m sure he felt deeply shamed. I felt like his balls had been chopped off before my very eyes.

I, understandably, lost my hard on. He fucked me a little bit more and then told me he was tired.

I tried to forget what happened but all I could see in my head was the shit covered condom hanging from his hair. “Oh, is that where I put it?” he might say.

I jacked him off until he came and then quickly dressed. He paid me, plus a nice tip, and then told me he had a great time.

“Yeah, you’re the shit.”

To all people who are planning on having anal sex, CLEAN YOUR ASS OUT BEFORE HAND.

To learn how read my comment on The Secret Confessions of a Horny House Wife ’s blog titled Crossing the Line

Professor D and I were texting back and fourth all day. I kept delaying our paid meeting, but he didn’t seem to mind. After I was hour late my phone beeped and I looked at the message he had sent me - “You’re like all students, late and naughty. I am going to spank you when you get here.” I thought for a few seconds and then responded - “Oh I’ll make you cum, Professor.”

Finally I arrived at his hotel. I knocked on his door and was greeted by a man who looked strikingly similar to David Sedaris, one of my favorite authors.

I shook his hand and then walked into the immaculately clean hotel room. The first thing I noticed was his computer screen, which was on a desk facing towards me. The background was a montage of pictures of me that I had sent him. “I hope my little shrine doesn’t freak you out too much!” he said, too which I laughingly responded “Of course not!” Truthfully, it was a little disturbing.

Professor D was the most euphoric client I have ever had. He seemed so grateful and happy to see me.

“So thats an interesting name you have there, Cyrus” he said. “Why would your white parents chose an ancient Persian name like that?”

“Oh, my mom loves ancient Persia” I lied. “All of my siblings have Persian names as well” I lied again.

“Oh really, what are their names?” he asked. A chemical concoction for terror was immediately released from my Cerebral Cortex. I felt the fear chemicals loop through my veins, shoot down my arms and legs and finally spiral into my quivering heart. I didn’t know any other Persian names. My siblings have completely normal American names. I was, as I often am, caught in a lie with a client.

“Guess” was my genius response.

“Umm, do you have brothers or sisters?” he asked, and for once I answered honestly - “I only have one sister.”

“Leila?” was his first guess.

I honed in my on my acting skills. “Oh my god! How did you know. Yeah, thats her name! Leila!”

Fast forward a half an hour. Prof D and I were lying on his bed. I was in my white briefs and he was wearing his shorts. He ran his hand across and under the seem of my underwear as we spoke. His touch eventually sent blood rushing to my penis, which bulged underneath the white fabric. Prof D pulled my underwear down and grabbed onto my cock, then moved his face in to analyze it.

He put on a pair of reading glasses and scanned my cock up close. He pinched different parts of my dick and then removed the glasses and looked up at me. “Thats a big cock” was his scientific conclusion.

I didn’t respond. Then I felt his wet, warm mouth and tongue on the tip of my dick. I moaned a little bit and tilted my head back as he sucked on me. “I bet you think that I can’t deep throat this whole thing” he said, challenging me and my penis “I bet you can’t” I said. He then proceeded to shove my entire dick down his throat, all the way until I would feel his wet lips on my pubes.

Then he said he wanted to see my ass. I told him to go for it. He moved himself so he was sitting in between my legs. He went back to licking my dick, then he tongued my balls for a few seconds and then moved down lower. He grabbed my legs and pushed them back until my knees were touching my chest.

“That looks like a tasty hole” he said. I, personally, hate using the word ‘hole’, but it sounded hot in the context, probably because I knew I was going to get rimmed.

And rim me he did! He flicked is thick tongue up and down and then pushed his whole mouth into it. Then he started sticking his tongue up my ass with such force that it almost felt like I was being fucked. “Has anyone ever fucked you with a tongue like that before?” he asked, to which I was forced to reply “Noooo uhnnnn.”

“Well my dick is pretty big too” he said as he stripped naked. His cock was smaller than mine, but still fairly big in its own right. “Suck on it.”

I sucked his cock and endured his sex talk. “Yeah you like sucking the professors big dick, don’t you? Yeah, suck that huge cock. Well, maybe its not huge, but its still pretty big…” His penile insecurities shone like the Florida sun.

I got him close to cumming, and then he told me to stop. “Oh don’t think you’re gonna get out that easy” he said, “I’m gonna fuck you silly first.”

I rubbed on his shoulders for a few minutes before the sex and he told me that he had a nasty habit of falling in love with his male students. He said that I looked a lot like one of the guys he was in love with - hence, I thought, the reason he was so overtly happy to see me.

Then he fucked me. He wanted to do it over the side of the bed, so I moved my ass to the end of the bed and lifted my legs up. Before he fucked me he sucked on my ass a little more. When he was done he moved his tongue up and, in one swift lick, tracked over my balls, across my dick and up my stomach to my face. He stuck his tongue in my mouth and then withdrew it.

I watched him put the condom on. Then I let him apply the lube to my ass. He rubbed it all around and then stuck a few fingers inside. When he felt that I was slippery enough he grabbed onto the back of my thighs and pushed them towards my ears. Then I felt a little pain as his dick penetrated. I told him to go slow, which he did, until I felt comfortable enough to say “Okay, fuck me harder.”

I pulled at my dick and closed my eyes at first. Then I opened them and looked at the Professor, who was staring right into my eyes - his own eyes half closed with pleasure.

“That feels good” I moaned. He pounded my ass for a few more minutes and then pulled out quickly so he could eat my ass again. It feels great when someone licks your well pounded ass.

Then he started fucking me again. This time he fucked me so hard that I couldn’t help but have an orgasm. “I’m gonna cum” I said as I looked down at my dick. “Yeah, I can feel you cumming” he said, referring to the quenching feeling tops can feel inside the ass of a bottom whenever they orgasm. As he said that I watched all my cum squirt out onto my chest.

Then he pulled out and sucked at my ass again. Even post orgasm, the rimming felt heavenly. Then he grabbed onto my cock, squeezed the last bit of cum out, and put it into his mouth. My dick was in that sensitive refractory period so it didn’t feel so good. I squirmed on the bed but he continued, pushing down at my legs to keep me from moving too much.

Then he made a loud sucking sound and pulled my dick out of his mouth. “That tasted good.”

Then I was paid (he was fifty dollars short) and got dressed. Before I could leave he stopped me and ran his hand across my hair and face. Then, as though a centipede had stung him, he pulled his hand out of my hair and looked at his palm. ‘Eww, its snot!” he said. I looked at his hand and saw a green clump of snot - obviously a product of my runny nose.

“Thats not snot” I lied. “I didn’t even touch my hair” I lied.

“I really need to go, my sister, Leila, needs me to pick her up.”

I drove over an hour north to meet up with Earl. He told me over the phone that his primary fetish was tying guys up, then tickling their feet and watching them struggle against the ropes. “I like watching guys really struggle” he told me. I e-mailed him the day before our meeting and told him that I needed to know his actual address before he tied me up - or some other identifying piece of information (so they would know where to find my skeleton). He responded by giving me not only his address but also his full name and a few pictures of himself. My fears were calmed and so I went ahead with the booking.

Earls’s house was incredibly nice - a five to ten million dollar house with dozens of bedrooms and bathrooms. The master bed was already prepared with ropes. Earl, who was a pretty attractive middle aged guy, made me feel completely comfortable and at ease. “If you aren’t comfortable, I’m not comfortable” he told me. I let him tie each of my limbs to a different bed post - and then the tickling began. I’m morbidly ticklish, so Earl got exactly what he wanted and laughed at the site of me kicking and tearing at my restraints. Eventually, I struggled so hard that I ripped all of the ropes off of the bed.

Earl had to reposition me to a bed post and tie me up so that my feet and legs were up in the air. He doubled up on all of the ropes to be sure I wouldn’t break free. Then the tickling began and my violent reactions recommenced. For a second time, I ripped at the ropes until they failed, allowing me room to slouch upwards and grab Earl so that he would stop the incessant tickling. The whole time this was happening I had a huge hard-on. Every once and awhile Earl would run his hand over my dick - just slightly - and then return to tickling my feet - which spasmed even after he stopped tickling me.

Then Earl had me lie on all fours on top of a big ottoman. He tied me up again and then fucked my face with his cock. “Is it okay if we play it safe?” he asked me. “Umm, sure” I said, “I didn’t know we were going to be having sex, but okay.”

He rubbed lube onto my ass and then pressed his dick against it. Then he tickled my feet for a few seconds. “Watching you get tickled always gets me hard” he said. Then he stuck his dick in and started fucking me. I had asked beforehand that he allow my right hand to be free, so I could jack myself off.

He fucked me harder and harder until he started growling like an animal. I could tell he was cumming, so I let myself cum too. All of my semen shot out all over the ottoman - three or four pumps of it.

Afterwards Earl let me shower. Then he paid me, plus a nice tip, and drove me back to my car.

“I’ll be calling you again soon” he informed me. “I hope you can handle more of the same.”

I think he told me his on camera name is Derrick. Of course I won’t destroy his life and reveal his real name, so I’ll just continue to call him Derrick. Derrick contacted me by way of manhunt.com. He asked for my phone number and I gave it to him. Now, I didn’t think anything of it -as the boy is gorgeous and has the body of a Greek god - but my ambivalence melted away when he actually started texting me. The first time he wanted to get together I passed. The second time, which was today, I agreed. He said he would make the forty five minute drive south to come see me.

After I hung up the phone I went into the bathroom to get myself ready. It was then that I noticed that I had razor burn on my stomach, crotch and ass. Not just a few bumps, I mean a lot of fucking red bumps. I felt like smashing everything in the bathroom, but where would that get me? I tried to rub visine all over my body, to get “the red out”, but that plan went down like TWA flight 800.

I finally accepted that I had razor burn and that it wasn’t going away. But what should I do about it? Should I confidently ignore it and act the way I do normally? Should I awkwardly hide parts of my body that are nearly impossible to hide when getting fucked up the ass? Should I just tell him about it?

Derrick arrived a little late. When I met him the first thing that passed through my mind was “wow hes even hotter in real life.” He looks just like the football player guys from my high school that I wanted to fuck so desperately. He has the same personality as them too! Completely slow-minded and stupid. He answered everything I said with “Yup.”

My roommate was home so we had to keep it real quiet.

In my room I asked him to show me some of his movies. He logged onto a few different websites and played streaming videos of himself fucking other guys. Funny thing is I only felt mildly turned on at that point.

The computer snapped shut and he and I were left lying on my bed with nothing to say. I started running my hands over his tan, shaven stomach and across his well defined sex lines. His body was hot. I felt so hairy and razor burned next top him and I’m not even that hairy.

“Do you wanna suck my dick?” he asked.

I pulled out his cock and started sucking it. It was big, thick and nice. Not as perfect as mine, but very nice. It was at this point that my dick rose like an atomic cloud. I sucked on his dick and licked his shaved balls. I saw that his ass was shaven too. For the first time in my life I wanted to rim a guy - but I didn’t.

Eventually his dick popped out of my mouth and I said “So what do you like to do?” “Fucking” was his grammatically incorrect response. “How about I fuck you doggy style?” he said, but I countered “No. How about you fuck me on my back.:”

I got on my back and watched him apply lube to his cock. Then he got into bed and said “alright lift your legs up.” I looked at his beautiful naked dick and wanted so desperatly for it to fuck me without a condom, which is what he was trying to do. But then my sanity returned and I said “As much as I want to fuck bareback, you need to put on a condom.”

I watched him roll the red condom over his dick. Now I was ready. I told him I had just had sex for the time recently, so he needed to go slow. He nodded his head (he was still wearing a hat and a polo shirt) and then stabbed his dick right into me. I seizured in pain and moved back so his dick slid out. “FUCK. Not so fast” I said. He tried to move in again. “Oww, wait - gimme a minute. It still hurts.”

“Okay okay” he said as he began to slip his dick in again. “No seriously, stop it” I said.

He was a complete asshole - which actually turned me on. “It hurts less once you get into it” he said and tried to impale me again. I held him back for a few more seconds but finally gave up and let the fuck robot gyrate into me.

It was so painful I couldn’t believe it. I had never felt so much pain having sex before. I kept telling him to stop moving but he just continued right on fucking me. Eventually the pain morphed into pain/pleasure. I looked at his body and his face, which was looking straight down at the action, and I felt more turned on that I had ever felt in my life. He was fucking me so good and so inconsiderately.

I pulled on my dick a few times and felt an orgasm deep in my gut. “I’m gonna cum” I said as quietly as I could - keeping my poor roommate in mind. “Yeah, you’re gona cum.” he said. “You like me fucking you?” he said. “Oh yeah” I said as sperm squirted out all over my stomach. “Ah, I’m gonna cum too” he said a few seconds later. He fucked me a few more times and then pulled his dick out, ripped off the condom and came all over me. I pulled at his dick after he let go of it and watched all the rest of his stuff squeeze out the tip.

After we were done he quickly got dressed. I could tell he wanted to go, so I said “You going home now?” and he said “Yes.”

“Okay, well next time you feel like fucking give me a call. I’m normally free.”

“Okay” he said. “Next time I’m down here I’ll be sure to call you.”

I was supposed to do an overnight with a French guy last night. He contacted me because I am one of the only French speaking escorts in this city. On the phone his voice sounded decently French and masculine, so I wasn’t too worried about his physical appearance. Shit was I wrong!

I drove to his hotel and Valet parked my car. I knocked on his hotel room door and was greeted not by a Baret wearing, dark haired hottie but instead by a fat, ugly blob. ‘Nooooooo!!!’ I thought. ‘Well, maybe it won’t be that bad. Maybe he just wants to watch me jack off.’

We spoke in French, as his English was too poor to attempt communication in that fashion, until he finally said “well lets get into the bed.”

He took off his shirt and out fell an avalanche of hairy, mole covered fat. I had just shaved my torso and acquired a tan so our bodies were exact, polar opposites. We lay in the bed and I tried to fake affection by running my hands over his man boobs and sweaty, bald head. Deep down I was praying to god, or the devil, or allah, anyone - “Please let this be all he wants to do, just lye in bed together.”

Sadly, there is no higher power - how could a god let this happen to me? He started rubbing my dick, so I took my boxers off, hoping that would appease him. He started touching my dick and I tried as hard as I could to get it hard - I pictured all the hot boys I went to high school with getting gang banged bareback and having cum eaten out of their asses - but my feelings of disgust overpowered my imagination.

Now if everything I have described so far sounds bad, it pales in comparison to what I was about to find between his legs. I reached my hand through all of the fat and eventually found his penis. I soon learned that his tiny cock IS the most horrendous, disgusting and outright vomit inducing clump of atoms on the face of this planet. The hard part was very small, perhaps two or three inches, but on top of that was about two full inches of jiggly foreskin. It wasn’t just foreskin, it was as though the hard part of his dick only went halfway up his shaft.

I will not even describe what I saw and smelt when I pulled back the foreskin - but believe me I get sick when I think about it. No I I don’t just mean “Oh gross I get sick when I think of that” - I mean I ACTUALLY get physically nauseous every time I relive the experience - which my mind has done hundreds of times in complete disobedience of my wishes.

He tried to suck my big, clean, cut cock, but I wouldn’t let him.

There were few things I would let him to do to me - so eventually he said “Suce moi et fais moi jouir” (Suck me and make me cum.) Hearing those words felt like watching my mother get hit by a bus. I thought about what excuses to make to escape the situation and flee the room when I realized (lightbulb popping over my head) that maybe I could simulate the feeling of a blowjob without actually touching my mouth to his wretched nether regions.

I moved my head like I was blowing him but actually all I was doing was running two fingers up and down the bottom of his dick (I couldn’t even touch the top part).

Heres the funny part - he said “Ohhh, I haven’t been sucked like that in a long time. Oh, you are so good at that. Yeah, suck me.” My mouth didn’t once touch his dick, nor did more than two of my fingers.

He’s foolishly asked “Can I cum in your mouth” and I said “No” - then I realized that I forgot to stop simulating the blow job when I spoke, because its obviously impossible to speak clearly with a dick in your mouth, but he was such an idiot he didn’t even realize it.

Eventually I could hear he was gonna cum so I moved my head back and looked away. I was completely in the sitting position, with my head several feet away from his dick when he came, and yet he was such a moron he said “Oh, I’m sorry I came in your mouth.”

I ran into the bathroom and washed my hands and body off with soap for more than five minutes.

When I walked back into the room he started discussing our plans for the following morning. “Actually” I said, “I’m feeling sick and I need to go home. But I can meet you tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay, well let me pay you now.” He payed me for the overnight, thinking I was coming back the next morning. Then he tried to converse with me. I was polite and listened for nearly ten minutes to his French rants. Then I realized I already had his money and I didn’t have to be polite anymore. I felt liberated at the realization, like a flapping dove, and so I quickly left the room while he was talking.

It was my best two hours ever in terms of profit, but I would never do it again. He said he wants to see me everyday while he is in the States. Honestly, I wouldn’t do it for $1,000 an hour.

Is there some protocol when a client is absolutely untouchable? I don’t just mean unfuckable, I mean unTOUCHable.

(I apoligize for the terrible grammar/syntax in this (and many of my other) pieces(s). I’m feeling too sick and tired to edit it.)

Today I had sex with a man and a woman.

Marcell called me early this morning and said that he wanted to hire me for a few hours. At the end of our conversation he asked me if it would be okay if his wife watched us “play”. I have to admit that the idea aroused me on a very deep, molecular level. I happily said “Of course!”

At the front door of the couple’s house I was greeted by a giant, black moth which panicked at the sight of me and flew right into my face. I smacked at my face and almost fell over backwards as the malevolent moth flapped its papery wings across my cheeks and eyes. I was able to get it off of my face a microsecond before Marcell opened the door – saving myself from an embarrassing introduction. Marcell was shockingly handsome – he was a middle aged Latino guy with a nice physique, salt and pepper colored hair and a wickedly sexy goatee.

He made almost no eye contact with me – instead he just waved for me to come in as he stared off across the street. Inside I was greeted by his wife, who was also an attractive, though significantly younger and slightly overweight, Latina.

The blinds were drawn, the room was dark, and a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms lay on a nightstand next to the king sized bed. Marcell started pressing his fingers into my ass through my white shorts.

Marcell then pulled my shorts and boxers off and started running his hands across my ass. Then I felt his tongue slide down my back and into my ass crack. His tongue wiggled up and down a few times over my asshole – then, tragically, he stopped and stood back up.

I took off my shirt and turned around to face Marcell. Unlike before, he made frighteningly steady eye contact, staring deep into my quivering soul. I slid my hands up and down his torso and then moved down to blow him. I pulled down his boxers and wrapped my mouth around his long, dark cock.

I sucked him off for a long time. My mouth got tired but I still continued. Drools rolled down my mouth and chin and puddled onto the floor. At one point I gagged and felt embarrassed –but Marcell seemed to like it.

Finally, after an eternity of cock sucking, Marcell pulled his cock out of my mouth and said “Lets see what this ass can do.” I tried to hop into the bed but Marcell stopped me and pushed at my back until I was properly bent over. Again I felt his fingers and tongue move across my ass. Then I heard him tear open a condom wrapper and put it onto his cock.

“I want you to cum” he said.

He started fucking me hard and fast. I’ve noticed that the faster someone fucks me the more easily I cum. Its not about size or length, its just about speed. I felt an orgasm coming on within a few seconds – so I let go of my dick, assuming that Marcell wanted to cum too. I balanced myself with both of my hands on the bed and focused on the sensations of the sex. Getting pounded up the ass is both uncomfortable and incredibly pleasurable at the same time.

Marcells pushed one hand hard against the back of my neck and brought the other one around to play with my dick. I looked down and watched him rub the precum all over the head of my dick. Then he started yanking at my cock.

At that point, for whatever my reason, my mind drifted. I wondered what the deal was with concentrated laundry detergent. I had just bought a bottle of All 3x concentrated detergent that day. Is there some active ingredient that they isolate and then amplify? And why do they call it “butter” conditioner…..uh oh, orgasm time.

“I’m gonna cum” I said as the pleasure of each stroke became unbearably good. “Good boy” he said - his voice much closer to my ear than expected. His tongue then lapped up and down my ear lobe as he fucked me. My cum made a thumping sound as it dripped out onto the wood floor.

Marcell contined fucking me after I had cum. “Yeah, you’re such a good boy” he said as he grabbed clumps of my hair. The feeling of his dick in my ass soon became terribly uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if it was okay for me to stop him, since he was paying me and all. Luckily, I wasn’t forced to act, as he pulled out about a minute post-orgasm.

“Did you cum?” I asked. Marcell snorted and said “Oh no. I’m not done with you yet.” Well then why did you make me have a god damned orgasm? I wanted to say.

“I want you to eat out her pussy.”

Whatever, I thought, eating vagina isn’t that bad. His wife got onto the bed, rested her head against the backboard and opened up her legs. She was still wearing her panties, so I had to pull them off. Once her bottom half was naked, I was left face to face with a hairless vagina. I had eaten pussy a few times before, so I had some idea how to do it. I took a few broad licks all the way up her snatch before I dug in. I tongued at her clit and sucked at her “lips”. I followed the sounds of her moans so that I could best please her. At one point, while I was nibbling at the top of her punani, I felt Marcell running his tongue across my ass cheeks. Then he licked my balls a few times and then drew a wet, hot line up to my asshole. Then he started eating me out.

So there I was, eating a girl out while her husband rimmed my ass. My dick got hard again even though I had cum 15 minutes before.

Then Marcell dragged his cock up and down my ass. Uh oh, I thought, hes gonna fuck me again. As it turns out, I was right. He did fuck me again.

I exhaled and stopped sucking when his dick first penetrated. “Suck her cunt” he snapped when he saw that I had stopped. I was breathing hard from the fucking so it was hard to fill my mouth with pussy, but I managed to do it and breathe through my nose.

“Yeah you’re such a good boy” he said in a labored staccato as he pulled at my hair. “Mmmmhmmm” I mumbled right into his wife’s pussy. “Yeah, you’re good boy. You’re so tight.”

Marcells grunts quickened as he pounded my ass. “Oh yeah, I’m cumming” he finally said as he gave my ass a few final thrusts. When he was done he grabbed at the skin on my shoulder blades and said, for the 656 time, “You’re such a good boy.”

“Now I want you to make my wife cum.”

I was afraid he wanted me to fuck her, but he didn’t. I continued licking her pussy and tonguing at her clit until I felt her whole flower harden and heat up for a few seconds. She moaned and rolled back as my tongue brought her, momentarily, to pussy heaven.

We all got dressed and walked over to the front door. Marcell asked me questions about my schooling and my extra-curricular activities. When I told him that I volunteered at a homeless shelter on the weekends he seemed surprised and said “Wow, you really are a good boy.”