Date: Mon, 18 Apr 2011 04:54:51 -0700 (PDT) From: jjoneslovesitinthearse@yahoo.com Subject: True Perversion This is an entirely true story that I wrote as a personal record then subsequently decided to share. I keep a list of all my sexual encounters so I can remember them when I'm old and hard up for masturbatory fodder. This is #2 (well actually 2, 3, and 4 since each person I've been with gets a number). #1 is about me as a pre-teen and that doesn't float my boat, so I'll start here. The ages of characters, descriptions, and places are 100% true, though the names have been changed because some activities described are illegal. Since these stories are my records, I make it a point not to falsify or embellish no matter how badly I want to. Accounts other people's thoughts and sensations are obviously stylized. The quotations are direct, as sexual memories are deeply imprinted ones. When I don't remember what was said I don't quote. If you are offended by highly graphic descriptions of sex between men, stop reading. If you are not 18, stop reading and go create your own memories while you still can. During my junior year of high school I was beginning to allow myself to experiment with the idea that I didn't have to fight my desires for other men. I had some gay friends I'd met online but I was the definition of a tease. I talked dirty and went right to the edge of action, then backed out. The following, my first real gay sex experience, is what happened when backing out was no longer an option. I stayed home from school on the 15th of December, shortly before my seventeenth birthday. My mom didn't permit me to skip, but she had to go to work since my father had abandoned us and I used that to my advantage. I simply stayed in bed and ignored her until she had to leave and...voila! No school and the house all to myself, just like that. One of the older men I had been flirting with online said he liked to smoke weed and do other drugs, and we both seemed to be interested in all kinds of gay sex. I decided I was almost an adult (at 16...haha!) and it was time to get high. I'd smoked a couple times before with friends but never in a "party" setting as I imagined I was planning. The friend who was online when I signed on, Kevin, was older than me, about 40 or 45. With an absent father I guess I was craving attention from that demographic. On this particular day he said he had gotten some good weed and he invited me over to his apartment to meet in person and talk. He also mentioned Xanax, a drug I knew nothing about but figured it was high time for me to sample, lol. It's been about 8 years now, but I still remember what Kevin looked like, perfectly, he left his mark on me after all. He was tall and skinny, probably 5'11 and 150 pounds, though he didn't look unhealthy, just scrawny. His face was not attractive though it was largely obscured by a short, shaggy beard and moustache. He was not refined or cultured in any way, but he was intelligent with a lot of charisma and a dirty mind, so we got along great. I had precociously mentioned to him over the internet that I like big balls, and he told me that he had a pair I ought to see, so I was excited about several things that day. Of course I didn't plan to actually see them, but just the possibility was enough to get my dick jumping at that time. I walked the two miles to his apartment from my suburban enclave, and when I arrived his partner was on the way out the door. He did not seem overly friendly to me and so, being naïve, I assumed he was not okay with me being there...like I might steal his man or something. Believe it or not I actually liked that sort of scenario where things aren't stated and innuendo and body language takes center stage, but it also makes me kind of nervous. I said I was a tease, remember? I had noticed in passing that his partner was considerably more attractive than he was, also tall but dirty blond instead of brunette and beefy, with a boyish face, but I didn't really give it more than a passing thought. Once we were alone he pulled out a bowl and packed it with pot, and then he offered me a couple of anti-anxiety pills, which I took after the initial shock of him having actually had them wore away. We talked about his pets, how long he had been in Maryland, and other little things as we smoked the bowl, and then I finally asked him if his boyfriend was pissed that I was there. No, he told me, they both have casual hookups with other people, his partner just doesn't really like it when he smokes weed. "Chris is a good guy," Keith assured me, "and he has the cock to go with my big `ol nuts." "Together we make a damn nice male specimen," he added with a chuckle. I was a little more relaxed now, and I wasn't thinking of excuses to leave or planning escape routes. I was fairly sure Keith wasn't a psycho killer (though looking back I don't know what made me so sure he was kosher). He asked me what my ultimate fantasy was, though we had traded raunchy daydreams online before, and in person I gave him a watered down version. "I want to look at a man's butt," I said, while actually thinking, "I want to stick my face in a football player's butthole while he screws his girlfriend and lets out a few farts on me as he pumps her pussy." "You ever had two cocks at once before?" Keith asked me. I told him again, as I had online, that I had only masturbated with a kid from the neighborhood. Following his conversational lead, and a little turned on by saying naughty things out loud with a grown man, I asked him about those big balls he had. We smiled at one another as the conversation turned sexual. Expecting a little more of this banter at which I was so practiced, I was surprised when he immediately took me by the hand and said, "Come on in the back and I'll show `em to you." I was quite high now, and so I, without care or concern, followed him through a curtain into the back bedroom. I wasn't scared or nervous, I actually, for once in my life, wanted to do what we were talking about doing. We got to the bedroom, where he quickly unbuttoned his jeans and dropped them, along with his boxers, to the floor. He had a nice full bush, but not overgrown, and a soft, uncut dick that I silently calculated might be about 6 or 7 inches when erect, slightly bigger than mine at the time. Keith stepped out of his pants, lifted his right leg up and, resting his foot on the edge of the bed, folded his cock up towards his belly button exposing his prized exhibit. I saw immediately that his testicles were indeed remarkable. They weren't the full, fat, wrinkled scrotum sort of nuts that I love to sniff nowadays, but they were low-hanging and exceptionally large. I smiled at the commendable display of manhood dangling at my chest level as he once again took my hand and, cupping it, rested one of his heavy balls on my palm. Though my heart nearly pounded out of my chest, I reflexively took my hand back. In the same motion, however, I inexplicably applied it to unbuttoning my jeans as quickly as possible to release the aching stiffy that was throbbing against my fly. Keith removed his wife beater as I took off my briefs and tee-shirt, and there we stood face to face, he in socks and me without a stitch of clothing. I don't know what I had decided on doing now, or how far I planned to go, just that I felt good and, at 16, my hormones were racing too fast to stop. Seeing my erection prompted his penis to swell as well and, in a perfect moment of lewdness, the foreskin rolled back over the engorged shaft just as his slippery pink cock head came into contact with the tip of my swollen purple one. I laid back on the bed and he straddled my face, moving side to side so his shaved scrotum, with massive testicles too big to fit in my mouth singly or together, swung back and forth across my tongue like a pendulum. I could smell sweat and musk, and I remember wondering if it was because his sack was so voluminous that the pleasant, but all too often faint, odor of manhood was so wonderfully pervasive. I looked up as he bent forward to take my teenaged cock into his greedy, experienced mouth and I secretly savored for a moment the sight of his puckered brown anus, barely visible beyond its collar of dark brown crack fur. I always loved sneaking a peak at this special, sensitive place on a real masculine man, and, if I am able, inhaling its unique and intoxicating scent. It suddenly disappeared from view, replaced by a thin line separating two pale, clenched cheeks, as he bent forward and took my penis to the back of his throat. I tried to moan but opening my mouth only filled it with the salty flesh of his massive scrotum, and before I could even focus on this pleasure, his pungent hole once again came into view. As he pursed his lips and ran them gently but deliberately up my shaft from base to tip, his weight shifted backwards and the brown, crinkled object of my perverted desire was once again lowered nearly onto the tip of my nose. I couldn't take it anymore at this point, I loved the newfound feeling of being used. Not teasing, but giving it all up. This man invited me, a seemingly innocent teenager, to his home, got me high, and defiled my smooth face. He fed hungrily on my young, eager prick and exposed to my innocent eyes his matured scrotum and unkempt butthole, and I was fucking loving every moment of being used. I knew I would never be the same, I had always known I would be a depraved slut, but now, at only 16, I was being made into one. It went through my mind that I had only agreed to a show and tell with the hopes of seeing what a grown man has between his legs, and now I was melting on a wave of testosterone and lust beyond my own control. I only vaguely heard the front door open and, by that point, I didn't care if it was the pope walking through to witness my face buried in a middle aged man's rear, nothing was going to distract me from my hedonistic pleasure. I felt his mouth, which had worked its way down my shaft to the base once again, pull away, and then I felt a twinge of erotic electricity at the cold sensation from my pubes which were now moist from his saliva. He swung his leg over my head and stood, opening the drawer to a bedside table and pulling out a small brown glass bottle. He unscrewed the top and held it under his nose as he inhaled deeply and exaggeratedly, as if to show me it was okay. My agreement was unspoken, and, having given it wholeheartedly in my own head, I was only more aroused by the fact that my consent was no longer a factor in what was about to occur. As I breathed the fumes greedily, somehow innately aware that the more I inhaled the more pleasure I would experience, my face began to flush. From the pleasant, hot feeling that rushed over my cheeks, I could only imagine my face was crimson red, but I no longer cared how I looked, only what I might feel and enjoy. I took my third deep breath of the poppers, as I now know them to be, just as Kevin's partner Chris and another, older man entered the apartment. Chris led the way into the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt with purpose and the older man, who was about 60 with snow white hair and a Hawaiian shirt, sat on the edge of the bed. Just as they entered, the poppers started to release my inhibitions and I arched my back, pushing my pelvis towards the ceiling and causing my now semi-erect dick to flop around in a lewd circle. I didn't think to acknowledge them or to inquire what they were doing; I already hoped and suspected I knew the answer and, even if I were wrong, it was inconsequential....I now had a need to be filled. "Cock," I mumbled, groaning. "I want some fucking cock. I want to be a slut and I want cum all over me." I moaned as if begging for water in the desert. "I'll take care of you sweet little boy," cooed the older man, whom they called Jim, as he lowered himself down between my open legs and eagerly groped and fondled my exposed dick. He started to kiss my leg from the knee on up my thigh, which made me feel dirty and taken advantage of, but as quickly as I identified the feeling I started to get a dirty pleasure from this filthy old creep perving out on my body. The poppers were still hitting me incredibly hard, and I spread my legs further, urging my ungroomed, furry, though now spit-soaked, cold, and retracted young scrotum into Jim's waiting, toothless mouth. He quickly caught on to what I wanted, and I felt his long, warm tongue lash out hungrily from beneath his grandpa moustache and warm my testicles. Grandpa Jim, as my popper, pill, and weed addled brain had decided to identify him, knew exactly how to take care of another man. As his tongue lovingly but lewdly caressed each of my balls, he warmed them for me and gently kissed my scrotum until it loosened into his waiting mouth. I threw my head back and moaned, "Grandpa Jim, Grandpa Jim, make me warm, make me cum" as Keith let out a laugh at the name I had used. I suddenly became aware, once again, of Keith's' and Chris' presence in the room with us. Jim, seemingly turned on by the incest reference, angled my semi-hard penis downwards and took it, along with my whole scrotum, into his warm, wet mouth. I could feel the hairs of his beard bristle on my relaxed, tender anus as his aged, white moustache hair met with my crisp, young pubic bush in a perverted, cross-generational tangle of male sexuality. "Ohhhh, Ohhhh," I moaned, not caring how I sounded, "Grandpa Jim feels so good on my fucking dick." Jim shot a knowing glance to Keith and Chris, who by now had dropped his pants to reveal a fat, veiny, penis that was bigger than I knew penises could get at that young age. "Kevin's a real good boy, Jim," Keith said in a laughing tone, "I told you he would be." The comment went over my head, which was preoccupied with figuring out the lewdest most depraved things four males could do together. Keith reached over and lifted the back of my head, holding the poppers underneath my nose once more. This time I greedily inhaled, holding my breath after each sniff like it was a sip from a hedonist grail. "I want your big daddy balls again, Keith," I moaned after catching my breath, the words passing my lips at the exact moment the thought occurred to me. "And I want to sniff your butthole and your farts," I added without the slightest bit of hesitation. Everyone except Joe, who's mouth was still wrapped around my young dick, tongue swirling around the shaft and then over my scrotum in wide, indulgent circles, exploded in laughter at my brazenness. I didn't have time to be ashamed because even before their laughter died down, Keith was once again on top of me scent marking my young, smooth face with his massive organs. "Should I?" I heard Keith ask. "Why not?" replied Chris, "Nothing I haven't suffered before." "Mmmmmm," gurgled Grandpa Joe, then, lifting off my sex for the first time since he began, gummed, "he's a nice dirty one, knows what he wants." I was no longer listening as warmth and pleasure had flooded my loins. Joe's mouth had once again enveloped my developing manhood with his gentle, indecent caresses. I began to lose myself, once more, in exploring the view from between Keith's legs and up into his hairy ass. Suddenly, however, the heavy testicles were pulled down over my chin and the alluring brown hole from whence Keith's manly smell emanated was coming, very quickly, closer than it had before to my face. I think I knew what was happening, but still didn't really believe it until Keith's hands reached behind him and pulled his cheeks wide apart. His hole seemed to jump before my eyes as I heard a series of pops, like a sheet ripping in half, as I felt a hot wind in my face. I was, at first, in ecstasy, until the smell began to invade my nose and mouth. I had wanted it so badly and yet this fart was more than I could handle. I began to struggle, but Keith held me down firmly. "You like it, little brother?" Keith asked me with a smile, proud of himself for producing a smell that had Chris fanning his nose and Joe gently rubbing my belly and nipples to calm me down. It was at that moment, when I stopped struggling, that I realized I did. I did like it. I never thought the football players in my fantasy would have sweet smelling farts, and now, being held down, forcefully exposed to this rite of manliness, I was on a sexual high I couldn't have imagine in my frequent masturbation sessions. "Good job, Kev," Keith said to me as he removed his perineum from my face and wheeled around so his erect, uncircumcised penis was pointing right between my eyes. "Now you're a bro," he said, "suck me like one." I realized at that moment that, with all that had happened, I still hadn't sucked my first big, grown up prick. I opened my mouth eagerly, imagining I would emulate what Joe was still doing lovingly between my own legs. I felt my flesh firm up again inside Joe's mouth as the anticipation built and the poppers wore off. I saw a crystal clear drop of fluid collecting on the tip of Keith's crayon-headed schlong and I eagerly stuck out my tongue to accept my first taste of another man's juices. The familiar sensations of slick and salty made me hunger for more as soon as it hit my tongue, but Keith pulled back, teasing, and leaving a long string between his boner and the hole it was about to use. I licked my lips and opened my mouth again, this time ignoring the precum and instead latching on to the exposed glans with my lips like a baby on a bottle. Keith had the milk boys like me had wanted for so long. So many years of touching myself, sneaking peaks in the locker rooms, laying on my back and trying to will my stiff preteen boner towards my eager, homosexual lips were finally coming to an end. Keith's adult organ slipped effortlessly in and out of my mouth. "A born cocksucker," Keith exclaimed, "no teeth scraping at all." I could feel a new sort of emptiness in me where the pulsing dick had bored its eager way into my young, willing orifice but now so suddenly, so cruelly, had removed itself again. "I need it, I need more guys," I begged, and Joe, mouth still on my organs, grasped my hands in his and rubbed my thumbs with his. It felt like when my own grandfather had held my hand, but this grandpa also has his mouth between my legs and the lewd juxtaposition of tender and raunchy male love nearly sent me into orgasm. He could hear what was going on, though his view of my cocksucking debut was blocked by Keith's rear-end, and he knew I was one of his kind. He knew then that, long after he was gone, I would one day greedily welcome still more eager young penis into my experienced mouth as he had done for me today. Defiling as a christening into the world of cock lust. I squeezed back, pushing my now rock hard member as far as it would go down his skilled, ever willing throat. "Hey Chris," Kevin suddenly exclaimed, as if remembering something vitally important. "What?" replied his partner. "He ain't never had two dicks before," Kevin replied with a smirk. I was hungrily lapping on Keith's foreign, uncut prick and feeling all the depraved pleasure, for the first time, of enjoying a pair of nuts on my hairless chin, so I saw it as an intrusion when Keith's now slippery member pulled out once again leaving me with only longing and an appealing yeasty aftertaste. I took another hit of poppers as it was provided to me, and could only moan in pleasure as I saw Chris' much larger, thicker organ poised to make a regular dick dump out of my mouth. I opened as wide as I could for Chris' penis, wishing I could smell the nuances of his honey colored bush buried in my nose and feel the wrinkles of his big, adult scrotum on my chin. It soon became apparent though, that I could not then take what I can now, after years of experience, peg as a 9 incher with a soda can girth. I ran my hands up and down Chris' thighs, his rear, his ball sack. As I explored his mushroom head with my once innocent lips, lapped his gathering precum with my now hungry tongue, and gently traced the pronounced wrinkles on his matured scrotum with my fingertips, I willed my throat to open for this monster to violate it. Suddenly, Chris pulled out and, as I looked up, I realized why. Keith stepped towards me and, furiously jacking his erection, he groaned and began to shoot rope after rope of hot semen all over my neck and chest. For a second I was shocked that his grown ejaculation seemed no different than mine when I did it with my much smaller equipment, but then I began to feel the sheer volume of sticky warmth splash and run over my nipples, down my chest, into the nape of my neck, and into my underarms. "Ahhh fuck, you're a fucking whore you know that?" Keith said to me as he shook the last white gobs off the end of his cock, sending them flying in my direction. Then, he smiled down at me, stepped forward, and scooped up a handful of his semen from my chest. He rubbed it over the head of his now flaccid cock and told me to use my tongue to clean it out of his "hood," which my eager tongue quickly figured out to be his foreskin. I readily probed in between his folds of skin with my tongue, the salty, gooey seed forever poisoning my now filthy, depraved mouth. "Finish his pearl necklace Chris," I heard Keith say. "Nah pearls aren't in season," joked Chris. In my young mind I had no idea what they were referring to, so I kept nursing Keith's manhood until I felt the much larger, much more swollen, and still-erect mushroom head of his partner force its way past my lips alongside the other, now spent male organ. Before I could register that my teen mouth, which before today had only kissed my mother and one girl in the 4th grade, was suddenly home to two adult male penises, I suddenly felt the same warmth gushing in with such force and quantity that I swallowed it on reflex to keep from gagging. I knew it was sperm, warm, precious sperm, daddy milk, the stuff of my wet dreams and the result of them; but because I hadn't been expecting it, or maybe because I hadn't seen it, its power overwhelmed me. Even after the first gulp I still had a mouth full of Chris' spunk, not to mention Keith's now semen drenched soft dick still balls deep in there too. All of the masculinity that had just been sprayed in my young mouth made me want to be a part of this too. I felt my testes tense up and Grandpa Joe's throat began to pulse as if coaxing my nuts to release their load. I took another gulp of leftover semen down my throat as Keith's limp dick slipped out the corner of my mouth, leaving a trail of sperm down my cheek. At the same moment my hips bucked and I released my juice into the old pervert's mouth. I felt him swallow it all and then, moments later, I felt more sperm squirt of his erection onto my lower leg. Keith then took his hand, scooped up Joe's wad, and put that in my mouth too. They seemed to lose interest in me pretty fast, but told me to come back over when I stopped smelling like farts and ballsacks. I gargled with some mouthwash, wiped off with a towel, and then began the walk home. I arrived just as my mom was getting home from her job at the local Catholic church. I tried to avoid her but she pulled me into an embrace and kissed me on my cheek, talking about how she knows school is hard and I get teased sometimes. I don't know if she smelled the sperm on me, looking back she might have, but I do know I wasn't the sheltered, protected young man I had been when I left the house that morning. Those men used me, violated me, filled my body with their scents, their juices, and their desires. It could have been really traumatic except, as I knew from the moment it started, those desires lived in my mind long before they came to life. I was just a born cock hound, and I wouldn't have it any other way.