HELP ME NOW!

This post was a call to help. I was about to meet with a client who was looking for a physically and psychologically abusive boy to treat him like shit. I would delete this post, but some of the comments reflect huge efforts on the part of a my readers – so I’ll keep it.

To learn what happened, read the two posts after this one.

How to give awesome head

I was out drinking with the Slutty Duckling and few of her friends last night when I drunkenly stumbled into a conversation with several different straight guys about same-sex blow jobs. The boys who I chitchatted with truly were straight, yet they told me that they had been given excellent blow jobs by other guys. I’ve have always found straight mens pansexual tendencies interesting – most of them seem to fall in the ‘feel it rather than see it’ category, basically meaning that it doesn’t matter who is sucking their dick, all that matters is whether it feels good.

With this in mind, I thought I would do another (more informative and fruitful) blog on how to give fantastic head. I feel that, of all sexual acts, cock sucking is the one that I am the most talented at. I have watched myself transition over the last few months from an ‘eh, its okay’ boy to a ‘holy shit that feels good!’ man. I also initially wrote this whole thing as a poem, but dropped that concept early on – so that explains the sporadic rhymes.

Cock sucking is as simple as S.T.A.B.

S = Suction. This is the most crucial aspect of hose sucking that separates bad head from good head. You need to suck, suck suck. Suck as hard as you can without bringing your teeth into the mix. The cock is a sensitive appendage that responds to pressure – so the more stimulus and pressure it receives the faster it will throw up white seed. Simply moving a cock back and forth in your mouth won’t suffice, you need to suck hard if it’s your skills in bed you’re looking to safeguard.

T = Teeth. Or rather the lack of. There are some people out there who like to have a little nibbling but in general men find the choppers troubling. If you want to practice now, just open your mouth as wide as you can and then try to touch your lips like you’re an old man. Between hard sucking and tooth retracting there is a delicate balance that doesn’t give you much clearance. Even so, make sure to keep control of those teeth or else the mood will rot like a heath.

A = Atmosphere. This aspect of cock sucking has nothing to do with physical skills, it’s just how you set the mood. I’m a guy so I’ve had my cock sucked a fair share of times, so I know what makes me hard and what doesn’t. When you’re going to give head, avoid just impaling your face with the dick without first teasing the guy a little. Take off his (her?) shirt, kiss him passionately, and then slowly kiss or lick a trail down to the seam of his underwear. Then (assuming he is wearing underwear or clothes) try kissing the crotch of his underwear a few times – maybe even lick and nibble at his dick through the cotton barrier. At this point he should he hard as a rock. Then you can take his pants off. Now this is where a lot of people fuck up – don’t just stick the cock right into your mouth. Kiss the tip, then lick up and down the sides. The most sensitive part of a guys penis is the back “stitching” – which is the line of skin that stripes the back part of the top of the dick (the side of the dick facing his feet). Give that area a nice tongue bath. Run your fingers ever so subtly up and down the shaft. Then, you need to pay a lot of attention to his…

B = Balls! Oh yes, the balls matter. In fact, I personally prefer having my balls licked over having my cock sucked. The dangling sack that you have so carelessly disregarded is loaded with pleasurable nerve endings. So lick his balls, and suck on them so that one of the balls pops into your mouth. It also feels amazing when you flick your tongue up and down across his seed makers. It’s best if you play with his balls before you swallow his dick. Then, when you’re done playing with them, lick a nice broad stroke from his bonch (the magical area below his balls that is also a wonderland of pleasure sensers) across his sperm makers and up the back of his cock. When you get to the top, move your head down and take all of his man meat into your warm, skilled mouth.

If you follow all of these steps you should have him jizzing in no time.

So the perfect blowjob would go as follows:

Follow steps I discussed in the Atmosphere section. Kiss him, then slowly kiss and lick your way down to his dick. Pull his pants off and kiss the head of his dick. You now should be positioned so that you are sitting between his legs. Then ever so gently lick up and down the sides of his dick, finally working your way down to his balls. Suck and lick on his balls for a little, then lick up and take his cock into your mouth. Suck hard and move your head up and down quickly. Deep throating is not necessary but it sure does help. Every once and a while, when your mouth needs a break, move back down to his balls and flick your tongue. After a few minutes, start to rotate your head a little bit back and forth while your sucking on his dick. Twist your head to the right as you move your mouth up his cock and then twist back to the left as you bear back down on it. The blow job twist makes you look like a pro – and it also enhances the sensations. You should also move your hand up and down his shaft in unison with your mouth (though this is also not necessary). Finally, when you can tell that he is close to cumming, move one hand down to his balls and start to knead the skin with your fingers. Pretend that you are rolling a little bead between your fingers as you play with his baby manufacturing sacks. When he cums, the sensation will be dramatically sharpened by your hands playing with his balls.

After he has cum, let go of his balls (many guys get real sensitive balls after cumming) and then lick the sides of his cock a few times. The head of his dick will be extremely sensitive and ticklish post-orgasm, so try not to touch it too much.

Then steal his wallet and throw his ass out the door.

The ups and downs of dirty talk

The dichotomy of dirty talk is that it can be so hot when done confidently and properly and yet it can completely suck the soul out of a sexual encounter if done haphazardly. Personally, I’m not very talkative in bed – though at times I can be. I usually avoid naughty utterances because I fear that they will blow up in my face like a grenade.

Through work and through my many, many personal experiences over the last few months I think I’ve gained a fair bit of knowledge on the topic, so today I thought I’d share some of what I’ve learned about dirty talk.

Something I learned A: Dirty talk can turn okay sex into great sex if done correctly, so people shouldn’t cast it aside as something superfluous.

Something I learned B: Train-in-the-tunnel talk is purely a reflection of a persons confidence in saying whatever they are saying. There is absolutely NO way that someone can say something boner provoking if they don’t feel comfortable and confident saying it.

Examples in my personal life include the following mishaps:

-One time I was blowing a very nervous first timer in his car outside of my apartment. He had texted me real domineering messages before we met up like “I’m gonna make you suck my cock and drink all my cum like the little bitch boy you are” but in person this guy was clearly just a geeky med student. First he told me he was nervous, then while I was sucking him off he awkwardly put his hands on my head and then started rattling off lines he probably heard in gay pornos – “Yeah, milk it. Yeah, m-m-milk it. Suck out all that milk.” Upon hearing these words I felt a deep sense of shame for the man attached to the cock in my mouth.

-One older, conservative client who clearly has had no exposure to modern vernacular looked at me with half-opened eyes and cooed “Suck my penis. Yeah, put my penis in your mouth. Yeah, I like it when you touch that particular area.”

-A few months ago Steak was pounding my ass and I wanted to say something hot – so I stole a line from a porn I once saw and asked if I was “tight enough” for him. He didn’t respond, so again I said “tight enough for you?” He just mumbled and continued fucking me, and I looked down at the wrinkled bed spread and felt like an idiot.

On the other hand, I have also seen dirty talk succeed. Two particular times come to mind (both of them have already been mentioned on this blog, though in less detail).

-A guy was fucking me once and, after I came, he bent over and nibbled at the head of my dick – eating all the cum that come gushing out. He moaned “Mmmmmmm, that tastes good. Mmmmm, its yummy” as he slurped it up. Then he lifted his head up to look at me, licked a few globs of cum off of his lips and said “Mmmm, I like drinking your cum. Maybe next time I can fuck you and then lick the cum out of your ass.” Needless to say, I let this guy fuck me whenever he wanted to after that.

-The first time me and Steak fucked I told him, after five minutes of hard fucking, “I’m gonna cum.” He moved his face right into mine, his eye balls nearly touching my quivering little jelly corneas, and bellowed “Yeah, thats right, cum. Fucking cum.” Then he moved his head down to watch me cum all over my stomach. “Yeah I bet that feels good” he said as he panted, “Oh yeah, and now I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck yeah – uhhhnnnnn fuck yeah.” Steak never would be that verbal ever again during sex, much to my disappointment.

So, when it comes to dirty talk, I would suggest that you use it, but only when you feel comfortable doing so. And instead of stealing one liners from pornos or saying boring, repetitive things like “Suck my cock” and “Fuck me” – try to be a little more original. The best way to dirty talk is to simply describe what you are doing to someone – or to describe what you want to do in detail. And don’t use words or terms that make you feel uneasy. I, for instance, have a hard time saying (much less writing) the words ‘cock’ and ‘hole’ – so I never say them.

And most importantly, when saying something to someone, if possible, make eye contact to show your new found sense of self confidence. Wandering eyes are like unsharpened knives.

The moral of this post? Nothing – I’m bored and waiting for my friend to come home. I just don’t want another person in the world have to go through what I did when I was looking down at those checkerboard bed sheets, watching them slowly compress and fold before my eyes, thinking little about the pain in my ass because I couldn’t understand why I had just said the words “Tight enough for ya.” How dreadful!

A loud, abusive asshole

Bob looked like a real hard-ass. I suspected he had probably endured a long stint in the military – the kind of guy that shortens the names of mid century wars to ‘Nam and ‘Rea.

I met him outside of his apartment block along with his two dogs.

“They gotta take a piss” – these were the first words he uttered to me.

I tried making small talk with him as his dogs circled the faded green lawn and shamelessly released themselves in front of me, a complete stranger.

When the dogs had finished we walked into Bobs apartment.

“This place is a fucking ghetto” he told me, though the inside of his place was completely immaculate.

He offered me a glass of orange juice and then asked me a few questions about my sexual history. As always, I lied to his face, though I remained truthful on a few details. I did admit (rather brag) that I had only had sex for the first time a few months before, but then I told him about all the girls I had fucked and then divided the number of guys I truly have had sex with by two or three.

Our conversation got more heated, and I saw Bob’s cock grow inside of his pants. He grabbed my foot and rubbed it across his hard on – closing his eyes like a pedophile as he enjoyed the pressure of my gigantic feet (size mother fucking 14).

Then he had me put on a red speedo and follow him into the bedroom. I got onto the bed and he got on top of me. Then things got a little creepy.

He said “Yeah, you’re hot. You’re a college stud. Yeah, I like that hot college cock.I’m gonna fuck a college stud.”

He grabbed my head and twisted it painfully to the side so that he could kiss me. ‘Kiss’ or ‘make out’ are too soft to describe what he did to my face, he just pushed his whole face against mine and drilled his tongue down my throat. He had a pretty strong grip on my head – and his other hand was holding down my other arm above my head. I started thinking ‘oh shit, this isn’t good. I think I better get the fuck out of here.’

I probably should have left right then, but I decided to wait things out – plus it would be real hard (and embarrassing) to suddenly up and leave after driving forty minutes to meet a guy.

I felt scared, and a little turned on. My dick was hard. Bob finally took his disgusting tongue out of my mouth and moved down to my dick. He pulled down the speedos and started pulling my dick with the same excessive force that he had used on my face seconds before – only it felt good when he battered and abused my cock.

Then he pulled my legs up and ran his tongue across my ass and balls a few times. I was hoping he would rim me more, but it seemed like all he wanted was a quick taste.

“Can I put my dick in your ass?” he asked me.

“Sure,” I told him, “but only if you wear a condom.”

He grabbed a condom and put it on his dick. Then for about five minutes he desperatly tried to jack his dick to life so that it could penetrate me.

He tried unsuccessfully to stick it in, but each time his dick would bend. He kept asking “ARE YOU OKAY?” in a voice only fit for screaming at someone in a crowded metro station. Each time he yelled in my face pieces of a serial killer started coming together before my eyes. I imagined him pulling out a knife and walking towards me – “ARE YOU OKAY?!” Then he would run it across my neck – “ARE YOU OKAY!?” Then he would stab me, chop me up into little pieces, burn the remains and throw it off a cliff into the ocean – “ARE YOU OKAY?!”

Finally his dick pushed its way into my ass. He started fucking me really hard – using the same violence that permeated all of his actions. He told me not to cum, but I couldn’t help it. I asked him if I could a few times and finally he said “FINE. CUM!” He fucked me a little more and then I came. As always, my cum came shooting out, and a few globs of the white juice made it all the way up to my face.

Bob pulled out and then lay down on the bed and asked me sit on top of him and jack myself off. I complied. It was taking him an unusually long amount of time to cum, so I decided to speed up the process. I ran my finger across my stomach so that it was covered in my cum, then I licked it off my finger. “Mmmmmm, it tastes yummy” I said.

“OH THATS HOT” he said.

“I’m gonna drink your cum when you’re done. I bet it tastes yummy too” I said.

After I said that, Bob threw his head back in the violent, erratic way that he did everything and started moaning, rather screaming. “OH GOD I’M GONNA CUM. OH GOD. OH GOOOOOD!”

A few tiny little beads of cum drooled out the top of his his penis. It wasn’t quite the spectacular ending I was expecting.

Of course I didn’t eat his cum like I had suggested. And luckily he didn’t ask me to, because I wouldn’t have done it.

Then me and him showered and I got dressed and headed for the door. He stopped me and wrapped his arms around my waist to delay my departure. Then he moved his mouth close to my ear and yelled “I HOPE I’LL SEE YOU AGAIN SOMETIME SOON. I HAD A REALLY PLEASANT TIME WITH YOU.”

Cum rolling over red dots

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 high school 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 came 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.

Crystal Dick

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.

Fifteen year old cock sucker

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.

Am I the “I” in HIV?

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.

Shitty Date

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

Fucking Professor D

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.”