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My Weird Little Sex Life
by The Gargoyle (thegarg0yle@hotmail.com)
***
My entirely true erotic history, age 5 to 36, succinct,
not indulgent, sometimes humorous, including: first
time straight sex, first time gay sex and foot worship
and public sex. (Mm, MF, ped, reluc, voy, feet)
***
The following content is absolutely true. I've changed
most of the names, both biographical and geographical,
in attempt to safeguard my own anonymity.
***
AGE 5
I got a thing for feet. Always have. This sounds
ridiculous but I think it's got something to do with
this: Socks and underwear. As a small child I saw some
kind of connection between socks and underwear.
I understood very clearly that the things behind your
underwear were private. You weren't supposed to see the
things behind other people's underwear nor were you
supposed to expose the things beneath your own.
Underwear formed an extra layer between your clothes
and your body - between your pants and your really
private parts. Socks also formed an extra layer -
between your feet and your shoes. So I interpreted that
your feet were also private. I think that's the source
of the fetish.
I remember in kindergarten - one day in gym class.
There was a new kid in our class. He must have just
moved to the neighborhood. He didn't have the proper
gym attire. Now for crying out loud, we were five years
old. How could one not have the proper gym attire?
Shorts, T-shirts and sneakers were the standard issue
for five-year olds.
What the hell else would five-year olds wear to school?
Okay so this kid might have been new to the country let
alone our kindergarten class. The point is - He had
these shiny black shoes that were right out of the
question when it came to gym class. Therefore he went
barefoot.
Barefoot.
I was stunned. His naked feet slapped against the gym
floor as he ran around. He might as well have been
running around with no pants or underwear as far as I
was concerned. How could he dare expose himself like
that? I would have fought to the bloody death before
stripping my feet naked in front of a classroom of boys
and girls.
At this time in my life I spent a lot of time with my
grandparents. I have an uncle only ten years my senior
and at that time he was around 15 and had a bedroom in
the basement of my grandparent's house. I spent many
nights in his bed with him, in our pajamas. I remember
one night we were horsing around on his bed and for a
joke he grabbed my bare foot and stuck my toes in his
mouth. Don't get me wrong. He's entirely straight. For
him it was strictly a joke but I suppose it must have
left a mark on me - for me to remember it to this day.
I was already masturbating at this time. I started at
age four. I guess that's a little precocious. I
discovered it by humping a pillow in effort to suppress
the urge to pee. For the next 13 years I got off
strictly by humping pillows. Oddly I never thought to
use my hand till I was 17.
This practice of humping pillows - When I was very
young I gave it the name "homework" of all things.
Homework was a term I'd heard from my young uncle and
aunt and I didn't really know what it meant, nor would
I have known the term for pillow-humping so I guess I
just threw the two things together. It would have
seemed sensible enough to a four-or-five-year-old.
One evening in my uncle's bedroom I wanted his
attention - probably wanted him to play a game with me.
But he, sitting at his desk explained, "I can't. I'm
doing my homework."
"Well then I'm gonna do my homework too," I declared
and proceeded to climb onto his bed and grind myself
silly against his pillow. He just looked at me a little
strange and that's when I began to realize that my
'homework' wasn't necessarily fit for public
performance.
THREE APPROACHES
The school where I attended kindergarten was quite
close to our apartment - separated only by a large park
and small wooded area. One evening my friends and I
were playing in the park and one by one they were
called home. I think there was a rule that I was to go
home whenever the last of my friends were called home
but on this evening I didn't. I decided to hang out all
alone for a while just to be adventurous.
The sun was setting. I heard a voice calling to me. It
came from the dense coniferous trees on the other side
of the steel 'frost' fence that bordered the park. I
spied a boy - significantly older than myself - wedged
between the trees and motioning me to come over. I
obeyed - perhaps out of fear. I was generally shy and
mistrusting of older boys - assuming they were mostly
only interested in beating up younger boys.
I approached cautiously, planning to run like hell if
he started to climb the fence. I don't remember how the
conversation started but he quickly brought it around
to the subject of 'streaking'. I'd never heard that
term before. He explained it meant taking off all of
one's clothes and running around in public. He claimed
he did it all the time and urged me to give it a try -
right then and there.
I was not comfortable with this and not at all keen to
try. He offered incentives. He explained that there
were great rewards for taking off my clothes -
chocolate, cash, my very own TV for my bedroom. He said
he'd been given all these things in return for
stripping naked. I didn't believe him but was afraid to
say so. He must have really wanted to see me naked
because he tried for the longest time to convince me. I
wanted him to leave me alone but was a bit scared to
leave without his permission.
It was growing dark. We heard my mother calling for me.
He did some serious back-pedaling in a hurry. He told
me that what streaking really meant was being a good
boy and doing what my mother told me. Then he took off.
The next day I told my friend Johnny about the
encounter. He wasn't especially bright. At the mention
of the chocolate, cash and TV he promptly stripped
himself naked and began running laps around the parking
lot. His mom showed up all of a sudden and gave him an
earful and a whack on the ass. No cash or prizes.
That was the first of three such propositions through
my childhood. What can I say? I was a pretty cute kid.
*
Around the age of eight I met a new friend who's family
had just immigrated from England. He became very
popular because he had all kinds of toys that none of
us had. He had an older brother that we never saw much
of but one day he and I found ourselves alone together.
He had a very cool bike - the envy of the neighborhood
- basically the early version of the 'motocross'
bicycle. He offered to 'double' me on it. I sat in
front of him and we rode around the apartment complex
for a while, then stopped and sat side by side on the
slope of a hill. He asked me what I wanted to do and I
had no suggestion. I had no idea why this older boy
would take an interest in me. I do now.
He suggested a game I'd never heard of before. He
explained that one person would lie on their back while
the second person would remove articles of the first
person's clothing - one at a time - and have a peak at
what lay beneath. I assumed the objective of the first
person was to try to stop the second person. Not so, he
explained. The first person was supposed to let it
happen and simultaneously strip the second person. I
didn't show a lot of interest in the idea and so he let
it pass.
Would-be molester number three was a little more
aggressive. This occurred at about age 11. I met an
older boy who lived across the street and a few doors
down. Though we hardly spoke much we would always
gravitate towards each other if I had no other friends
about.
We would just ride our bikes around together and speak
very little. He never approached when I was with
friends. It was a strange association. One day we left
the suburban survey where we then lived and found
ourselves at a tree-lined creek surrounded by fields of
very tall grass. It was a popular place for my friends
and I to play but he was a bit too old for that crowd.
We dismounted from our bikes and walked alongside the
creek for bit. The boy then told me that he wanted me
to go lie down in the tall grass with him and that he
wanted to take my clothes off. I said I wouldn't do
that. He explained that no one would be able to see us
and that he would strip too if that would make me feel
more comfortable. I declined. He wouldn't take no for
an answer. He threatened to throw my bike into the
creek if I would not cooperate.
He tried for a long time to convince me but I wouldn't
budge. Finally he marched back to our bikes, took mine
and disappeared into the trees. I crept along the
opposite side of the creek and spied on him. He found a
place where the creek was wide and shallow. He
carefully descended the steep bank and placed the bike
on a little 'island' of sand. I was much smaller than
him and didn't know if I'd be able to get the bike back
up that bank on my own.
I sneaked back to where we'd last talked and he met me
there. I played dumb and asked for my bike back. He
lied. He said it was submerged and that I wouldn't find
it. He would only relocate it and give it back after I
got naked with him. He tried at length but couldn't
convince me. Finally he returned to the bike and
brought it back to me - safe and sound. He rode away
and never approached me again.
AGE 13 - 15
Shortly after this I was moved to a newly built bedroom
in the basement of our house. This afforded plenty of
privacy and I would stay up very late, often reading
books or exploring sexual fantasies. I was still
humping pillows at that time and I discovered that the
mirror on my antique dresser could swivel up and down
if I removed a pin in the back that was holding it in
place. I would angle the mirror slightly down, climb on
to my bed stark naked, chest down and looking forward
at the mirror. I had a nice body - trim and toned. I
liked to watch my naked butt (albeit at a sharp angle)
as I humped away on the pillow.
I explored fantasies of being accidentally or forcibly
exposed to girls. I would take scissors and cut my
underwear down to almost nothing. I'd wear only that
and incorporate it into my exposure fantasies.
Sometimes I would turn out the lights, open my curtains
and sit naked on the deep window sill, parallel to the
window with my bare butt and feet on the cool ledge,
arms around my knees. There was a streetlight right in
front of the house and I was pretty sure I was visible
from outside, not that anyone would likely be looking
in my direction.
Being a basement room the window was right at ground
level. Several nights I got really gutsy and opened the
window and climbed outside stark naked. I never went
further then our front lawn.
Unfortunately it was a storm window and I couldn't
figure out how to re-attach the screen once it was off.
Eventually my parents discovered what I'd done to the
window and gave me shit for it. I claimed I'd broken
into the house when I'd forgot my key. They re-
installed the screen and I never pulled that stunt
again.
The street that ran behind our house parallel to our
street was at a higher elevation than ours so the lots
that backed on to ours were higher, their houses were
higher and thus the fence between afforded lots of
privacy to their yards and almost none to ours. One
afternoon I went into the backyard shirtless to talk to
my mom who was sitting in a lounge chair reading a
magazine. She glanced at the house behind ours and
smiled and said, "Did you know there's a girl staring
out the window at you?"
I hadn't known but it was kind of flattering.
*
An older widowed British woman lived next door and I
would cut her grass and sometimes clean her pool. My
family was welcomed to use the pool whenever she wasn't
home. The first time my folks let me use it unattended
I got a little adventurous. I untied the string on my
bathing suit and began diving into the pool, climbing
out and diving over and over again.
Each time I dove the suit would pull down a bit by the
force of hitting the water but I would never adjust it.
Eventually it was half way down my hips and my dick and
ass were both half-visible.
I wouldn't even look at the windows of the houses
behind, not wanting to know for sure if anyone was
watching or not. On the next dive the suit came
completely off and I continued naked for a while. I was
excited and scared at the same time.
My friend Steve Edison was a year younger than me. He
was a bit of a pervert and quite likely gay or possibly
bisexual. I haven't seen him since high school. He and
his brother would have friends over for little skinny
dipping parties. His parents consented to these events
and would check on us periodically. It was usually his
mother who would pop out the back door without warning
and she caught many glimpses of myself and other naked
adolescent boys this way. It was kind of funny at the
time and didn't concern me much.
They also hosted many sleepovers. We'd bed down in
sleeping bags in the basement rec-room during cold
months and in the summer we'd tent it in the back yard.
Steve made it clear that the Edison's bed-time ritual
must be observed by their guests. When Steve and his
brother were ready for bed they would always go
downstairs and kiss their mother goodnight. I assume
this was usually done in pajamas.
During sleepovers we all slept in our underwear because
that was the 'cool' thing to do. So before bed Steve
would insist that we all strip to our underwear and
parade to the living room or kitchen and present our
half-naked selves to his mother for good-night kisses.
It seemed harmless enough at the time but in hindsight
seems a little suspect, doesn't it?
AGE 16-17
We started hanging out with a group of girls our age
and some couples were formed. Two of the girls, Monique
and Krista were quite interested in me but I had a
pretty good sense by this time that girls weren't
exactly my cup of tea - at least - they weren't as
interesting to me as boys were.
One evening a friend's parents were out and we were
sitting around their kitchen table playing cards.
Monique, sitting directly across from me raised her leg
and rested her foot on my chair between my legs. In no
time she was grinding her toes against my crotch. I let
her do it for a while but I wouldn't sleep with her
despite her repeated hints.
We boys were skinny-dipping at the Edison's one night
when we heard the girls show up at the side gate. We
all scrambled into our suits and climbed out of the
pool to greet them. They were quite brazen, suggesting
that we remove our suits and go back to what we were
doing. We said we'd skinny dip if they would. They
wouldn't but made it quite clear that they'd like to
watch us at it. They became quite adamant that we
should strip off and 'just pretend they weren't there'
but it never happened.
Krista stood next to me and put her arm around my
waist. I wasn't interested in her but didn't mind the
contact. Her fingers began to wander around my lower
back and then down to the waistband of my wet shorts.
Eventually she slipped below the waistband and cupped
the upper half of my right butt cheek, her fingers
almost imperceptibly caressing my ass. That's as far as
it went.
Mr. and Mrs. Edison were out of town that weekend. We
boys stayed overnight. There was some very underage
drinking going on and a very cute boy named Kevin ended
up in just his underwear and got very friendly and
cuddly with everyone - boys and girls alike.
The next morning we were back in the pool when the
girls showed up again. We weren't naked but Kevin was
still in just his 'tighty whitey' underwear which by
this time had become ripped in various places and were
soaking wet from the pool. The girls had a hay-day with
this, grabbing his undies at every opportunity and
shredding them more.
He couldn't have cared less and I found it all very
arousing. Half his adorable little ass was showing as
were his testicles for the most part and occasionally -
depending on the angle - his dick. I was praying one of
the girls would just rip the damn things off him but no
such luck.
I lost touch with Kevin shortly after that and then
heard that he had died while still in his teens. Some
rare cancer or leukemia or something. He was such a
sweet kid. Too sad.
OLD MACDONALD
I was taking a photography class in grade ten and one
Saturday I biked up a 200-foot ridge (locally referred
to as 'the mountain') and went to a park that offered a
grand view of the city. I snapped some pictures and
strolled through the flower gardens. I noticed that a
woman about my mother's age seemed to always be in the
area and kept looking at me.
I sat on a bench overlooking the view and looked
through the camera, fiddling with the aperture, shutter
speed and focus settings. I sensed someone taking a
seat beside me. It was the woman. She started up a
conversation. She asked about my interest in
photography and school in general. Her name was Marilyn
MacDonald (her real name by the way) and she turned out
to be a high school teacher but at a different school
than mine.
She told me how she'd married a farmer's son at an
early age and they were still together with two kids -
on a farm of their own in a rural community about a
half-hour away. Apparently her husband was a little
older and had had his eye on her for a while before her
parents allowed her to date. She explained that she had
never dated or "been with" anyone but him.
This subtle reference to sex gave me a pretty good idea
where all this was going and even though I was pretty
sure I was gay I wasn't sure if I might be bisexual and
wasn't entirely against the idea of finding out.
She confessed that some of her own students had started
to catch her eye. This didn't shock me. I had a female
math teacher in a class where I sat in the front row.
Whenever I wore shorts I would repeatedly catch her
looking at my legs.
Marilyn asked if I had a girlfriend and smiled when I
said no. She told me that her husband felt bad that as
a teenager she had never experienced sex with anyone
but him and that he now invited her to do so - but not
with a full-grown man. He wanted to be her only man but
she could have sex with a teenager if she wanted and
suggested that she find a virgin to educate in the ways
of sex. She said I was cute and asked had I had sex
before. She was pleased when I confessed that I hadn't.
Was I interested in getting together with her some
time, she wanted to know. I said quite possibly, and
she gave me her number.
After we'd said good-byes and she left, I watched her
walk across the parking lot to the far side and climb
into a pick-up truck. I turned back to the view and
listened as the truck pulled up to the near side of the
lot and parked again. Moments later I felt her hand on
my shoulder.
"Do you want to get together now?" she asked. "Will you
come home with me?"
I did. On the ride to her farm she assured me that we
would be alone. She told me that she'd been looking for
a young man for some time and that she'd placed an ad
in a newspaper. It garnished just one reply but the 18-
year-old had declined at the last moment.
We arrived at the farmhouse and sat in the living room,
me on the couch. It didn't take long for things to heat
up. She started to undress and I started to do likewise
but she asked me to wait. She wanted to do that for me.
In just her bra and panties she came to me and lifted
my tee shirt off. I raised my ass so she could take my
shorts down. She removed my socks. I kept hearing
creaking noises as she stripped me and I asked her more
than once - was she sure we were alone in the house.
There was no other vehicle in the lane-way but there
was a garage and the door was shut. She assured me more
than once that we were alone and next thing I knew her
hand was inside my underwear playing with my dick. I
marveled at the new sensation.
I thought I should reciprocate so I touched her breasts
and she reached behind her to remove her bra. Off came
my underwear, then hers. My dick was finally hard. I
was hoping she'd suck it but she never did. She lay
back on the couch and guided me inside. No condom. It
was the wettest damn place I'd ever been. There was
just so little friction I wondered how I'd get off.
This didn't compare to a pillow at all.
"I'm sorry I'm so wet!" she actually said to me.
We went at it for a while. She continually ran her
hands along my back and ass which felt good. I just
wished there was more friction.
I don't know if it was a sixth sense or what but
suddenly I was absolutely positive we were not alone. I
pulled out.
"Someone's in the house!" I insisted. She held on to me
like she was afraid I'd bolt.
"It's okay," she said. "It's just my husband." I looked
around wildly and there he was. I saw his head pulling
back behind the corner of the hallway.
"Come out," she told him. "It's okay," she said to me.
"He just wants to watch. He won't touch you!"
My dick was softening quickly. This had become awfully
weird all of a sudden. Her husband walked over and
introduced himself. He knew my name already. He'd been
listening to us the whole time. Here I was naked on my
knees, straddling his wife on his couch. He shook my
hand while his wife was shaking my dick, trying to keep
it alive. I was sure I couldn't go on at this point.
He scooped up my clothes from the floor, haphazardly
folding them and placing them on the coffee table. He
complimented me on my body and urged us to continue
while he took a seat and watched. I realized at this
time that his motives were not entirely unselfish. He
was clearly getting something out of this.
We rutted some more, working up a good sweat. I got
over the creepiness and started to get turned on at the
idea of an audience. It took forever to come but I did.
She didn't as far as I recall. The husband had taken my
shorts and undies in the meantime and they were now in
his hands on his lap. I don't know if he'd sniffed them
or what.
Marilyn donned her panties and put on MY tee shirt. It
was snug on her and I was a little irritated. I wanted
to get dressed but they had confiscated everything but
my socks. It was strange to be sitting around
completely naked with two clothed adults while the wife
sat beside me and continued to fondle my body. We
talked for a while. The husband repeated many of the
things she'd already told me. They'd got their story
straight, true or not.
Eventually they surrendered my clothes, watched me
dress and drove me back to the park, me sitting between
them in the truck. They made me promise to call them
but I didn't. I was shocked one day when my mother
answered the phone, passed it to me and it was Marilyn.
I can only surmise that I had some kind of ID in my
shorts and that's how they were able to look up our
number.
This pissed me off because now I had to come up with
some story when my mother demanded to know who Marilyn
was.
They really wanted to hook up again but I never did.
That's the only time I've ever had my dick in a woman.
I'm 36 now and I sometimes wonder if I've got a 20-year
old son or daughter somewhere!
HIGH SCHOOL
While my encounter with Mrs. MacDonald and her
voyeuristic husband convinced me that my preference
indeed leaned to the gay side I still figured I'd lead
a straight life. I had no intention of coming out of
the closet to anyone because I saw no advantage to it.
Then I met Daryl. He was in the grade below me but was
in my second semester English class because he was
fast-tracking through high-school. That is - he was
building a 5-year diploma in just 4 years.
Daryl was the first boy I found myself significantly
attracted to. He was somewhat 'preppy' and often wore
deck shoes to school without socks. During class he
would sometimes slip his shoes off and I had a hard
time concentrating on class and not eyeing his feet.
The attraction was strong enough that I came to realize
that staying in the closet might not be an option. How
could one make love to girls knowing that such strong
desires existed that could only be satisfied by boys?
The matter was sealed when the second object of my
affection came along. Very oddly that was none other
than Kyle, Daryl's close friend - also a year younger
than I. The three of us were not only in the same
English class (the only class I would ever share with
either of them) but we also were in the same work-
group. Our desks would be pushed together along with
three other students whenever we did collaborative
work.
I was a decent student but my grades plummeted in this
class. I was thoroughly head-over-heels infatuated with
this miracle of
a boy. Kyle was thin, rather shy and intensely
beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Now I
finally understood that my being gay would have to be
reckoned with. I just couldn't keep my love for this
boy a secret. It was burning a hole in my heart.
Kyle had a twin brother (a theme in my life, it would
come to seem) named Craig. They were physically almost
identical. This worked out well for me because I loved
Kyle too much to dishonor him by fantasizing about him
sexually! So all my masturbatory fantasies revolved
around Craig for the longest time.
I would imagine kissing him from head to toe -
especially the toes, and sucking his dick. I would
orgasm quickly (I was using my hand finally) and then
spend the next two hours hugging my pillow fiercely,
pretending it was Kyle while I cried my eyes out.
Rather pathetic I now realize.
In my mind I had built Kyle up to be such a wonderful
person that he would surely be understanding and
sympathetic to my plight. So I chose him to come out of
the closet to! This was a horrendous mistake. While I
thought I could quietly reveal my undying love for him
and receive a compassionate (and profoundly delicious)
hug in response, instead it scared the shit out of him.
I would then spend the next year and a half begging him
to meet with me privately, intending that I would
properly explain the situation and assure him that this
whole mess was no big deal from his point of view. That
it carried no threat or implication to his own
heterosexual future. I promised to entirely disappear
from his life after this private meeting.
But all this he flatly rejected and in a fiasco of
immaturity I declared that I'd given up on life and
found myself in a psychiatrist's office.
Dr. Blake was more messed up than I was. He made a
career of counseling gay kids. He would always sit
immediately beside me on the couch, regularly put his
arm around me and always insisted on warm hugs before
and after each session. His repeated advice was to get
myself laid by a nice gay boy and then I would forget
all about Kyle. I was certain Dr. Blake had no clue
what he was talking about and suspected that perhaps HE
should be paying ME for our sessions with all the
groping going on.
Dr. Blake, I'm sad to say, took his own life some time
later, long after I had given up on our sessions having
discovered the vastly superior benefits of support-
group therapy.
OUT
My first evening at the gay support group offered me my
first cognizant contact with other gays and lesbians.
It was wonderfully liberating. After the meeting the
group headed out to the local gay bar, as was their
custom. I was underage so I started walking to the bus
stop instead when one of the fellows came up behind me
and invited me out for coffee. Paul was older,
unattractive (in my judgment) and seemed a little slick
in personality but being so eager to have someone to
talk to, I went with him.
We wound up at the apartment he shared with his dad and
went straight to his bedroom, coffee apparently
forgotten. He assured me rather pointedly that we would
not be disturbed by his dad. I wasn't at all concerned
about that and wondered why he hadn't introduced us
(god, I was naive). We listened to music and talked. At
one point he looked at my lap and said, "Nice basket!
Want to have a picnic?"
He then brandished some magazines of a quality I've
never seen before or since. They contained extensive
picture series of gorgeous teenagers (my age) stripping
naked and jerking off for the camera. I was spellbound.
Unfortunately my reverie was interrupted when Paul
suddenly pressed his face to mine and snaked his tongue
down my throat. A very unfortunate first-kiss I must
say.
I patiently waited for this to stop, regretfully put
the magazine down and stood up to leave. He fell to his
knees before me, reached for the button of my jeans and
said, "May I?"
"Not tonight," said I. "Let's wait till we get to know
each other a bit better, okay?" He graciously stood and
walked me to the bus stop. I had no intention of
getting to know him better and avoided him at every
future opportunity.
I went home that night and in my room I fantasized
about being one of the magazine boys. I stripped,
imitated some of the poses I'd seen and jerked off.
*
At the next support group meeting I met two fellows,
Danny and Pat. They were also new to the group and
meeting each other for the first time. Afterwards the
three of us went for coffee - at a real coffee shop -
and became fast friends. I was the glue that brought us
together though I didn't yet realize it. I would later
discover that each of them had designs on me.
Pat was a few years older. Danny was my age and
initially we became quite close. I wouldn't have
guessed that it would actually be Pat that would prove
to be a truly marvelous person and a dear life-long
friend.
Danny was extremely outgoing, a bit of a 'queen'
already at 17 and highly promiscuous. He'd borrow his
dad's giant Buick and we'd drive the two of us all over
town. He'd show me the cruising areas, not that I cared
to know, and make me listen to dreadful dance music.
One night he took us to a dark area just off the road
that overlooked the city (not the place where I met
Marilyn). We sat close together on the bench style
front seat and talked about our problems and listened
to the radio. He described something his mother used to
do to make him sleepy when putting him to bed at night.
He wanted to demonstrate and took my hand and drew
light ticklish circles on my palm with his finger. It
felt good and I just relaxed and let him do it.
"Would you mind if I take this a little further?" he
asked. This took me entirely by surprise. I was not
attracted to him physically and never suspected he
thought of me that way.
"Um, I guess not," I said. He continued with my hand
and then traveled up and down my bare arm. He rubbed my
chest through the shirt then slipped his hand under it
and worked his way up my bare chest. The sensations
were pleasant. I was wearing athletic shorts (which
were still rather short in those days. The longer style
shorts - jammers, I believe they were called at the
time - were just beginning to come into fashion but
were strictly the domain of skateboarders!) He began
tickling my thigh and then my inner thigh. His hand
slipped inside the leg of my shorts and up the front of
my leg til he reached the liner of my shorts.
My dick was rising and soon he found it through the
liner. He gave it a brief squeeze and it became very
hard indeed. Danny 'ooh'ed and giggled. He withdrew his
hand and then crept forth again, this time going under
the liner and beneath my underwear. He grazed through
my pubes, tickled my balls and then circled the base of
my hard-on.
I had my eyes closed, just enjoying the wild
sensations. He slowly ran a single finger up the length
of my dick and down again.
"Do you mind if we take these off?" he asked, meaning
the shorts.
"Okay."
"Shirt first, he said, and began rolling it up and off
me. I lifted my arms and let it come off. He trailed
his fingers down my chest, smiling with approval. He
grabbed the waistband of my shorts, I lifted my ass and
in a flash he had them - and my underwear - around my
ankles. He was all smiles as he caressed my hard dick.
"Are you embarrassed that I'm seeing you naked?" he
whispered.
"No," said I, though I was, but just a bit.
"Move over," he directed. I slid closer to the
passenger door. He wanted room to bend over. "May I
give you your first blow job?" he asked, grinning
sweetly. I just nodded.
Down he went.
It was heavenly. I never imagined anything could feel
that good. He took it all the way. He was talented. His
tongue was everywhere. One hand played with my balls.
He tried to force the other under my butt. When I
realized what he wanted I lifted up for a second so he
could get his hand under my ass.
On the radio, Fleetwood Mac's current hit 'Big Love'
was playing. He alternately blew me and jerked me off
for the duration of another half-dozen songs. I used to
be able to name them all.
Though it felt awesome I couldn't seem to come no
matter how I tried. It was some kind of sensation
overload. I apologized.
"Don't be sorry!" he said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm still
enjoying this!" But he was on a strict curfew because
his dad worked night shift at the mill and needed the
car. We did have to quit.
"I want to see you come," he said. "Will you jerk
yourself off?" I thought that was a good idea and he
sat back and watched while I stroked it. Still I
couldn't come. I was mystified.
"What's different?" he asked. "How do you normally do
it at home?"
"I just get naked and lie down and do it."
"Do you need to lie down? Do you need to get naked?"
"No, I sit sometimes, and I'm practically naked
already."
"Not quite," Danny declared and pulled my shorts off my
ankles along with shoes and socks. Then he even took my
wristwatch off! He sucked me some more then took my
hand and placed it around my cock. I jerked off again
while he stroked my chest and legs and I came. I've
never been one to shoot very far but this one popped
about 15 inches. More dribbled out and down went Danny
to gobble it up.
Afterwards he asked if I wanted to be his boyfriend. I
felt really sad for him and told him that I just didn't
feel that way about him. He seemed okay with that.
*
For the next couple months Danny and I got together
frequently. Any time one of us could borrow our
parents' car we would end the night by parking
somewhere remote. He would strip me naked, blow me and
watch me whack off. Sometimes he'd get me to open my
door and stand just outside so he could sit on the side
edge of the seat and fondle my butt.
Just to be fair I asked him a couple of times what I
could do to help him get off but he always turned me
down.
One night I slept over in Danny's large basement
bedroom with him. His parents didn't yet know he was
gay. Pat was meeting us early the next morning at
Danny's place to take us golfing - something neither
Danny or I had done before.
He stripped me and worshipped my dick. I jerked off and
then we slept together, me naked, in his somewhat small
bed - my first time sleeping with a gay guy. He cuddled
me from behind with his arm around me. He confessed
that he'd always wanted to do that. I felt him getting
an erection. I reached down and held it for a bit but
he shooed me away.
He also let me in on a secret - that Pat was jealous of
him for spending so much time with me and that Pat
wanted me for himself. This took me by surprise.
The next morning we were awakened by Pat's voice
calling to us. Danny's mom had let him in the house and
sent him down to Danny's room. I flew out of the bed,
still naked, dragging a blanket and pillow with me. Pat
had no idea that Danny and I had been fooling around
and I hoped to keep it that way.
I threw myself onto a small couch right by the door and
just managed to get the blanket across my midsection
when Pat came through the door laughing and telling us
to rise and shine. I acted like I had slept on the
couch and was just awakening.
I couldn't help notice that Pat was eyeing my exposed
chest and legs. So I figured Danny's report might be
true.
*
Gay Pride Day was approaching, the first such occasion
since I emerged from the closet. Pat and I agreed to
attend the weekend festivities together and to split a
hotel room.
On the eve of parade day we journeyed from the suburbs
to the big city and hit the gay bars. Legal age was 19.
I was just a year away but didn't look it. I was thin
and smooth-skinned but I was able to get by the
bouncers most of the time by entering among a group of
older friends and by wearing a carefully studied
expression on my face that made me look a little older
according to my friends' assurances.
Once inside I always received plenty of stares and free
drinks but I never encouraged the strangers that
approached me. I tried to act like I didn't want the
attention but for a teenager who'd been pretty shy and
self-conscious as a child it was quite an ego-boost to
be getting so much attention. Mind you, at that time
there weren't many teenagers coming out of the closet
so I was monopolizing a pretty large share of that
market. These days there's a plethora of teenagers in
the bars and some of them are awfully cute!
Pat and I had requested a two-bed hotel room. It came
with just one queen-size bed (no pun intended) but we
didn't mind sharing.
I awoke in the middle of the night to discover hands on
me. He was touching my back and my ass - through my
underwear. I stayed still and silent and let him do it.
He crept stealthily out of bed and went into the
bathroom for quite some time but on the way he stopped
at the foot of the bed and played with my bare feet for
a while. That's when I learned that I wasn't the only
person in the world with a liking for feet.
I must explain something. I'm probably coming across as
some kind of narcissist or exhibitionist as I relate
these encounters which so far, all seem to center
around my own body. But here's what you must
understand. My feelings about sex, similar to those
about love, have never leaned toward any kind of
reciprocity. My instincts have always dictated that sex
and love are about one worshipful admirer and one
beautiful beloved. To me it's a one-way street.
Here's the kicker: I've never wanted to be the beloved.
I've only ever wanted to be the admirer. I've always
wanted to be the provider and the protector. Does that
seem a little pederastic? I was without a father during
my early formative years so that may have something to
do with it.
So why was I playing the opposite role at that time in
my life? Because I was yet to meet someone beautiful
who would let me worship them. All my desires still
centered around Kyle, the unattainable straight boy. I
played the role of the beloved instead of the admirer
because it was the only role available. In those days
all I could do was to live vicariously through those
who admired me. And frankly I wanted to be kind. Why
deny someone the pleasure they wanted while I was
trying to find someone willing to extend that very
favor to me? It would have been hypocritical!
*
I fell in with a small crowd of slightly older handsome
gay elitists. They were rather snobby and careful about
whom they allowed into their little clique. They were
fashionable and political and I realized quickly that I
didn't fit in with this crowd and didn't really want
to.
I was ready to sever my inclusion but the silliest
thing happened. A struggling semi-professional dancer,
one of the clique, invited me to hang out with him one
evening - just the two of us. We spent a long late
night together just driving around, walking around and
talking about our often-difficult lives.
His unlikely name, Tristan Castlebrook seemed somehow
pretentious to me and in hindsight I suspect it may
have been the result of a legal name change - perhaps
for the benefit of his dancing career. Either way it
matched his rather calculated personality.
As the sun was about to rise we returned to his
apartment building. In the lobby we said our good-byes
and as it was the custom in the group to give good-bye
hugs I asked,
"Is this place too public for a hug?"
"Not at all," he replied. "Is it too public for a
kiss?" I was floored. He had this sparkling grin on his
face and I realized, somewhat horrified that this whole
thing had been a date. The crazy thing is - I was too
embarrassed to admit my mistake. He kissed me deeply
and guided me up to his tiny apartment.
I'd been a little ashamed of the exhibitionistic
sessions with Danny so I'd kept it secret. Tristan made
the assumption that I was still a virgin and was beside
himself with delight at the prospect of unraveling my
cherry. I played along. Who was I to disappoint him?
He undressed me reverently. He caressed and kissed and
licked my body while I squirmed beneath his eager hands
and lips. His disrobing was an afterthought. His dick
was quite big and I jerked it for him now and then but
he didn't want to come. He said that was his way with
sex. He never wanted the arousal to end while he was
with a partner so he would only come by masturbating
later, when alone and re-living the encounter in his
imagination.
I, on the other hand, came several times. Once in his
mouth and often in his hand. Tristan was an exquisite
masturbator. He had magic fingers. Oral and anal may be
the popular flavors of gay sex but the hand jobs I got
from him provided some of the most euphoric, torturous
mind-blowing orgasms I've ever had.
We actually became boyfriends for no other reason then
my being too embarrassed to admit the misunderstanding
concerning our 'date'. It sounds crazy but it's true.
And the fault was apparently mine because it turned out
the whole group found it obvious that Tristan was after
me since day-one. I hadn't realized it.
Despite my mother's protests I spent a few over-nights
at his place. He loved slobbering all over me and I
felt good fulfilling his fantasies - or so I perceived.
I never thought I might be hurting him.
I became worried as I realized how much he was falling
for me. I knew I had to break it off before it got out
of hand. I did so. He begged me not to leave him. He
said he'd never been so happy in his life. I felt sick
about it. We had our last dinner together. I drove away
while he stood on the sidewalk staring at me with the
most sorrowful expression I've ever seen. Whether it
was genuine or an act, I don't know. Everything was a
show with him.
Twice in the next ten years I ran into him and we just
laughed about how infatuated he had been - saying how
juvenile it all was.
I'll never run into him again. He's gone. He went the
same way as Dr Blake. I guess he got tired of living a
pretend life and was too afraid of trying to live a
real one - so he just called it quits.
*
Things were difficult at home. The gay issue was a bit
of a problem but I blew it all out of proportion. I
quit high-school, got a crappy job and moved out.
Although part of it was just that I had to get away
from Kyle. My infatuation with him was fucking up both
our lives. I rented a room from a single gay man. For
the record, that relationship remained strictly
landlord-tenant.
I dated a couple more guys in rapid succession. Then
finally I met someone that was gay, my age and that I
was attracted to!
I'd heard all about Ted before I actually met him.
Danny fell in lust with him and told me all about him.
Danny had secretly been giving him occasional blow-
jobs, which he was also doing for me again as I wasn't
dating at the time. Finally Ted and I met a couple of
times in group social situations and we seemed to hit
it off pretty well.
Then we got together for a movie - just the two of us.
It was a Sunday evening and afterwards we went to his
small apartment and stayed up all night just talking.
As morning arrived we finally confessed our mutual
attraction to one another, agreed to be boyfriends,
kissed good-bye and went to work.
Monday evening we got right back together and were
naked in bed in no time. He had a great body, not
really thin as I normally preferred but very firm and
toned and smooth. Oh and he had nice feet too.
Everything was mutual this time. We sucked and fondled
and kissed endlessly. It was the best reciprocal sex
I've ever had. He knew about my fetish and would rub my
dick with his toes sometimes. It felt awesome.
When Danny found out about Ted and I it ended our
friendship. He was jealous. I guess he felt I betrayed
him somehow. Perhaps I did. I'm not a saint. But Ted
meant a lot to me. He was cute and sexy and the sex and
the cuddling were great and I'd never experienced
anything like this. I wanted to spend my life with him.
I couldn't choose Danny's friendship over Ted's love.
Ted asked me to fuck him. I did but just once. I didn't
really like it. He tried to fuck me. It hurt too much
and we never tried again.
We were walking through a shopping mall one evening
when we ran into two of Ted's friends. One of them was
a 23-year old fellow named Gerald. I actually have no
remembrance of this event whatsoever but I know it
happened. Gerald was destined to play a major role in
my life and he still talks about the time at the mall
where he first laid eyes on me.
*
Ted moved to Baltimore temporarily - for university. I
had a job with odd shifts that afforded me a five-day
weekend every third week. This was the only time I
could spend with him. It was a long trip - the furthest
I'd ever been from home. The first time I showed up it
took all of 30 seconds to find ourselves up in his room
naked. We climbed all over each other. We could sixty-
nine all night those days and we were good at it too.
We had rhythm! He had an awesome dick.
My second visit, three weeks later, was very painful.
The second night there we went out to a local gay bar
with a new friend of Ted's named Lance. While we sat in
the bar I saw the door open and if my eyes did not
deceive me - in walked Kyle. Kyle - the object of all
my desires - in a gay bar in another state. It was
utterly surreal.
But it was not Kyle at all. It was a local young gay
fellow who looked so much like Kyle - and Craig of
course - they could have been triplets. It was
haunting.
I was devastated. The urge to go and speak to this
gorgeous boy was overwhelming. But what on earth could
I say? The truth would have sounded like the worst
pick-up line ever. And what about Ted? I couldn't do
that to him. I kept quiet. The boy was soon being pawed
over by some older man and I kept silent about
everything.
Our last full night together Ted and I lay in his bed
and he made a confession. He and Lance had been
sleeping together. I was devastated all over again. The
relationship was over. I know now that no male anywhere
is fully capable of monogamy or faithfulness. For each
and every man there is some level of temptation that he
can not resist. It's true. But I didn't know that then.
I was naive. I was idealistic. I wasn't mad but I was
hurt. I was crushed. I knew I'd miss him. We held each
other and cried together.
The next evening I packed the car to head home. But
when I left I didn't go straight home. I called the
Baltimore 'gayline' for a list of gay bars and their
addresses and I stalked them all evening. I completed
the circuit twice. I had to find this Kyle-look-alike.
I had to tell him he was beautiful.
He deserved to know. And if he'd show any interest in
me at all - I'd have packed my belongings and moved to
Baltimore - just for a shot at being his boyfriend. He
was that beautiful. But I never found him and that's
probably for the best. He probably would have thought I
was some kind of psycho.
GERALD
Ted and I stayed in touch and we even hooked up for
quick sex on a few occasions. I decided at this time
that I would never under any circumstances ever have a
boyfriend again! I was dead serious.
I was 19 then and had my own tiny bachelor apartment.
The rent was $230 a month! Ted called me one Saturday
just to say hi and as he did I was pondering a large
piece of artwork that I needed to return to the art
gallery. It wouldn't fit in my little old Nissan.
"Call Gerald or Dale," suggested Ted. They were twin
brothers - tall and thin with a lot of body hair but
receding on top already. They had pleasant handsome
faces. I'd met Gerald at the mall, you'll recall,
though I didn't realize it. Gerald had a jeep and Dale
a pick-up truck.
"Naw, I don't really know them very well - to be asking
favors," said I.
"Trust me," urged Ted, "Either of them would be very
happy to do you a favor." He was insistent. He knew
something I didn't. He gave me their phone numbers."
I was tight for options. I knew Dale a little better of
the two. Though I found his manner rather intense and
felt a little nervous around him, I gave Dale a call.
He wasn't home.
Gerald was. He dropped everything and came straight
over to pick up myself and the painting.
Task done I invited him in for a coffee but he revealed
he had to go catch a plane! He was just packing for his
vacation when I'd called. I was shocked he did me this
favor at such a time!
He took a rain check on the coffee and two weeks later
he flew back home and wasted no time cashing it in. We
became instant friends. He started visiting almost
every evening. He knew how I felt - about wanting to be
single - and it was torturing him. He wanted me in the
worst way and I had no idea.
One day as he visited I was barefoot. I knelt on the
couch in order to reach for something behind it and all
of a sudden he rushed up behind me, bent down and
planted a sloppy kiss on the sole of my foot. He passed
it off as a joke but I knew better. I realized two
things. One - there were now at least three people in
the world with a thing for feet - and two, Gerald had
some kind of feelings toward me.
I was determined to just stay friends but Gerald was a
charmer, a real pro. He laid it on thick and I started
to fall for him.
We'd been buddies a few months when he talked me into
vacationing with him in Florida. I insisted the hotel
rooms have two beds. I was still resistant to the idea
of a boyfriend.
We had a great time. It was my first proper vacation.
After the first night we never used the second bed.
Gerald was (and still is) very sexually adventurous. He
rimmed my ass. He licked my feet and sucked my toes. He
took me shopping for dirty magazines. He had us taking
photos of each other in the hotel room, naked and
jerking off. We both have copies still! We took candid
photos of young shirtless strangers on the street. He
was wild and youthful and giddy and he would be my
boyfriend for the next 13 years. And in that time we
would find all sorts of trouble to get in to!
LIFE WITH GERALD
Gerald continued to visit me almost every night.
Sometimes we'd stay naked the whole evening, having sex
every so often - mostly sucking and jerking each other
off. He bought some very arousing porno tapes featuring
18-19 year-old actors and left then at my place. He
still lived with his parents.
He had very prominent exhibitionist tendencies. One
night we slept over at our friend Pat's apartment (the
same Pat from part-2). We slept on a mattress on his
living room floor. The next morning after our host was
up and about we remained in 'bed' in our underwear.
Gerald tossed the covers back, yanked down my undies
and jerked me off 'til I came. After a brief respite he
did it again, and then again! It seemed like he was
determined to keep doing this until Pat walked in and
caught us. Eventually he brought me to my fifth orgasm
of the morning! The volume I discharged wouldn't have
filled a thimble. At this point I think he was going
for some kind of world record but I couldn't take any
more.
*
We spent a night at a hotel in a neighboring city.
Oddly I can't remember what the occasion was. We went
for a swim in the hotel's indoor pool and then returned
to the change room. We were the only ones in there. I
dropped my trunks, dried off and sat on the bench with
my towel in my lap.
Without any word or warning Gerald squatted before me,
threw the towel aside, grabbed my dick and thrust it in
his mouth. He was a darn good cock-sucker and still is.
He had me on the brink in no time when suddenly we
heard the door open. Thank goodness, as with most
dressing rooms there was a short wall in front of the
door to block the view from outside the room.
Gerald jumped away from me and I reached for the towel.
A man came around the corner before I could cover up my
hard-on. Whether he noticed it, I don't know. The man
used the urinal and left. Gerald took my hand, led me
into the sauna and finished blowing me.
Another time we were alone in a different hotel pool
and we took turns sucking each other under the water.
He could hold his breath for more than a minute, which
I found astonishing!
*
We found a much nicer apartment and moved in together.
He told me all about his somewhat unusual childhood.
He'd always been an exhibitionist and loved to streak
as a kid. He told me how he'd sneak out the back door
at night, strip naked and run all over town. He would
dash across major well-lit streets and creep down
alleys. He would have a hard-on almost all the time. He
rode his bike naked through residential streets. He did
this constantly through all his pubescent and teenage
years. He was only caught once and ran away as someone
called to him.
His first sexual encounter happened at 17 when he found
himself alone in a house with the 15-year-old brother
of a friend. The boy, apparently straight was
nonetheless rather uninhibited and seemed to have
pegged Gerald as a homo. While lying on the couch on
his stomach he asked Gerald to scratch his back for
him. Gerald was more than happy to comply as he found
the kid quite attractive. He knelt beside the couch and
dragged his fingernails over the boy's shirt.
"Gerry, I wish you were a girl!" said the kid, to
Gerald's surprise. He wasn't sure what to think.
"Scratch my bum," he then requested. Gerald happily
obeyed, scratching the boy's firm ass through his
track-pants.
"No, not like that."
Gerald changed pace.
"No," the boy protested, "Do it slow. Nice."
Finally Gerald understood. He was no longer scratching
at all. He was rubbing the kid's butt with the palm of
his hand. It had become a rather erotic massage. The
kid had his arms folded below his forehead, burying his
face.
"Underneath," he mumbled.
Gerald's heart skipped a beat. Had he heard that right?
He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of the
track pants. Taking a chance, he also slipped them
beneath the underwear. There were no objections. Soon
he was liberally groping the boy's firm narrow ass,
skin on silky smooth skin.
The kid began to grind his pelvis rather subtly into
the couch. He reached back with both hands, took hold
of his track pants and undies and pushed them down a
bit, then went back to hiding his face. Gerald took up
the task. He grabbed the waistbands and tugged them
down further, baring a beautiful smooth butt. The boy
raised himself, reached beneath himself and freed the
front of his pants from 'whatever' they'd been snagged
on.
Gerald was pretty sure what appendage that might have
been! He now feasted on the sight before him while his
fingers continued to rub, squeeze and tickle the boy's
smooth bare ass. Now and then he would run his finger
down between the kid's legs towards his balls. The kid
apparently liked that and spread his legs a bit in
encouragement.
All of a sudden the kid raised himself and shifted,
rolling to his side so that he faced the back of the
couch and his butt faced Gerald.
Gerald continued the exploration, now and then trailing
his fingers up over the naked hip prompting the kid to
emit a brief, barely audible moan. Now he was rolling
over more and Gerald peered over the bare hip to spy a
beautiful hard dick with a thin stream of ejaculate
dangling from it.
Gerald yearned to touch it but wasn't sure if his
caresses were welcome there. He instead crept toward
the testicles. He was indeed welcomed there. The kid
finished rolling over, keeping one forearm covering his
eyes. His butt was now buried in the couch, no longer
accessible but his lovely dick and balls were on
display.
Gerald fondled his balls, occasionally touching the
root of his dick. Finally he dared to run his fingers
right up the length of the erection and the boy emitted
another quiet moan. That was all the encouragement
Gerald needed and he began to lovingly explore the
kid's hard-on. He couldn't believe the amount of pre-
cum flowing from the tip. Gerald's hand and the boy's
dick were soon coated in it. At the telling of this
story to me, Gerald referred to the boy as a 'pre-cum
machine'!
Gerald laid his head on the boy's flat belly so that
his nose was almost touching the head of the kid's
gorgeous dick. As a string of pre-cum began to descend
he reached out with his tongue to try to intercept it.
The boy then spoke up.
"Slob my knob!" he ordered. Gerald was thrilled. He
opened wide and engulfed his first dick; a 15-year-old
salty cum-covered dick. He was instantly addicted. He'd
never given a blow-job before but was determined to
thrill the boy. He worshipped that cock as best he
could and was soon rewarded with a mouthful of warm
cum.
Resting his head on the boy's abdomen, he kept the cum
in his mouth along with the head of the slowly
softening dick. Some of the cum dribbled out of his
mouth. He wasn't sure if he should be swallowing it or
not.
Finally he pulled away, went to the bathroom and spit
his reward into the sink. He washed it down and rinsed
out his mouth. That was the only time he spat. He would
become forevermore a swallower with the next blow-job
he would give.
He grabbed some tissues, returned to the boy and
lovingly mopped up his genitals. The kid had his eyes
covered the whole time.
"You'd better go," he said, regret in his voice.
Gerald left and rarely saw the boy after that. It
seemed he was avoiding him. Another day when he was
visiting his friend he went upstairs to use the
bathroom. He saw the boy's bedroom door was closed. He
tapped on it lightly. The door opened.
"What do you want?"
"I want to give you a blow job," Gerald whispered. The
door closed in his face. It wouldn't happen again.
After Gerald and I had been together a couple years I
began to be aroused at the thought of his streaking and
asked for a performance. He was delighted to do so.
Many times when we were out late we'd stop at a public
park or some place. We'd go for a walk and he'd get
naked and jerk off. It's rather lucky we never got
caught. In one sense I almost wanted to get caught.
What use was exhibitionism if no one was around to see?
One time while Gerald was sitting on the couch in a
pair of shorts I asked him if he'd ever fantasized
about exhibiting himself in front of live people - our
friends or what not. I'd been having those thoughts
myself for a while (of exhibiting him that is, not
myself). Gerald responded by pulling his dick out the
leg of his shorts, waving it around and playfully
saying,
"Oh, hi Pat, how's it going?" I was instantly aroused.
I knew we could find people interested in a show.
Gerald had a decent body; trim, somewhat sculpted and
he'd been keeping it smooth through electrolysis and
shaving.
We had started to chum around a little bit with a
neighbor; an older man named Phil who had proved our
suspicions true by admitting he was gay. Gerald had an
inkling the man was attracted to him. We put a plan
into action.
Phil came over one evening for drinks. Gerald was
dressed in a pair of short shorts, no underwear, and
we'd cut the liner out! In our living room we had a
couch against the wall and a love seat in the middle of
the room, facing the couch. Phil took a seat on the
love seat so Gerald sat on the couch directly across
from him. I sat beside Gerald. Our plan worked
perfectly. I made all the drinks that night which gave
me plenty of excuses to walk in and out of the room by
passing behind the love seat and thus seeing exactly
what view Phil was getting.
It was quite a view. Sometimes just the head of his
dick was visible, sometimes more. I was told later that
he would get semi-hard whenever he'd spy Phil giving
his crotch a good look, but nervousness prevented him
from going fully hard.
Eventually Gerald broke the tension.
"Phil, I think Chad has something to ask you!" (Chad is
me, but not my real name of course).
"You ask him," I said. I was too embarrassed to do the
talking.
"Are you sure?" Gerald wanted me to have control of
things. He didn't want to go too far without being sure
I wouldn't end up jealous or regretful. But I was
ready.
"Yes. Go ahead. Ask him."
"Chad has a fantasy about me being naked in front of
people. He wants to know if you'd be our audience."
"Sure I would," said Phil with a grin. "I figured
something was up. But I'm out of smokes. Let me grab
another pack. I'll be right back."
Phil left. I was feverish with excitement. I
practically tackled Gerald and we kissed deeply while I
groped his dick. He was hard in no time.
"Are you excited about this?" I asked.
"Of course. Are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Of course," said I.
"Okay, well stop that or I'm gonna cum already!" I
released him and went to make fresh drinks.
Soon we were all reassembled in the living room.
"Should I strip or what?" asked Gerald, looking at me.
"No, I'll do it for you." Off came his socks. Off came
his T-shirt. I fondled his dick through the liner-less
shorts. He was good and hard. He lifted his butt. I
dragged the shorts off him. We had Phil's rapt
attention as he smoked his cigarette. I stroked
Gerald's dick while he lay back on the couch, arms
folded behind his head.
"Do you want to touch it?" I asked Phil.
"I thought you'd never ask!" he replied. He snubbed out
the cigarette and came to sit on the floor beside the
couch. Gerald was wide-eyed. We'd never discussed the
idea of someone actually touching him.
"Are you sure that's okay?" he said to me.
"Yes. Everything's fine." Phil stroked Gerald's dick
while Gerald just lay back and soaked up the attention.
"May I suck it?" asked Phil. Gerald went wide-eyed
again.
"Sure! Go ahead," said I. Phil sucked it. He took it
all the way. He was good at it, better than I. I could
tell. Gerald came in his mouth. He swallowed.
Phil thanked us and left. I whipped out my dick and
jerked off as Gerald fondled my nuts.
We had Phil over a few more times. Gerald rarely wasted
time stripping down for his hand-job and his blow-job.
Gerald and I moved away. We bought a house together and
Phil only visited once before we lost touch with him,
but we found quite a few other friends who were happy
to watch Gerald's show, and in some cases to
participate in much the same way Phil did.
Our home would also be the scene of a number of other
rather unusual encounters over the next 7 years...
THE INCREDIBLE TRAVIS
I answered a newspaper ad. A recreational indoor
(arena) soccer team needed a few players. I was invited
to try out. At the arena I was introduced to a handful
of players including an extraordinarily beautiful
teenager named Travis. He was about 5' 8'', smooth
skinned with an adorably cute face and a very slim but
sturdy body. He was a lightning fast runner.
After practice we hit the showers. I saw Travis naked.
He was stunning. The sight of his smooth little firm
body took my breath away. He had the most adorable
narrow pert little ass I've ever seen to this day.
I made the team.
After our fist league game we showered, dressed and
gathered at a local bar that sponsored the team.
Pitchers of beer flowed liberally. The bar keepers
thought the soccer league was strictly 19-and-over
(drinking age). We didn't let on otherwise and several
underage players drank all season. Travis drank
enthusiastically and being small, got drunk quickly.
I spotted an old friend I hadn't seen since high school
and I went to talk to him. While away from the table I
heard quite a commotion from the team - uproarious
laughter and carrying on.
I finally excused myself from the old friend and
returned to the table. Travis, quite drunk, leaned
across the fellow sitting between us and said loudly,
"Hey Chad, come here, I wanna tell you a secret!"
Who was I to decline the wishes of such a beautiful
boy? I dutifully leaned towards him, presenting him my
ear as our teammates quieted and watched us. His lips
approached my ear and then - he kissed me on the cheek!
The gang exploded with laughter. I'd been had.
Apparently he'd already snookered one or two others
with this rather odd gag.
"Look, he's smiling! He liked it!" joked one of our
teammates as he pointed at me. He didn't realize this
was the truth. I only regretted it wasn't on the lips!
After our second league game I was under the shower
next to Travis when he loudly announced, "Hey Chad,
come here I've got a secret for you!" We all laughed.
There was no kiss this time of course.
A core group of us became good friends and sometimes
the six of us would gather at my place after the bar
closed and drink some more. Travis would often walk all
the way home from there in effort to sober up before
getting home. His mother was very religious and not
approving of alcohol - underage or not. Other times he
would leave with his best friend John and crash at his
place.
At one game John proposed to Travis that they just
spend the night at my place afterward as I'd offered on
more than one occasion. Travis agreed. I was ecstatic.
I knew Gerry would approve as he'd met Travis and also
found him adorable. The guys thought I was straight and
Gerry was my roommate.
But John and Travis's girlfriends had come to watch the
game and decided to come out with the team afterward.
It looked like our plans would not come to be. Travis
ended up getting extremely drunk and got into an
argument with his girlfriend Sherry. As we left the bar
the argument got out of control and suddenly Sherry was
crying and Travis was marching away down the street.
John and the others rushed to Sherry's side and I alone
followed Travis. He was a mess - mentally that is.
He'd always behaved in such a happy-go-lucky manner.
This was strange territory. He said some very
disturbing things. He said he should just kill himself.
This struck me sharply. I didn't know him well enough
to realize this was nothing but the ramblings of a
drunk teenager. I stepped in front of him, halting his
march and I took his sweet face in both my hands,
forcing him to look at me.
"You're not gonna kill yourself," I said earnestly.
"There are people who love you!" He looked at me wide-
eyed. I was referring to his mom and girlfriend but
deep down, I suddenly realized - I was talking about
me. I worried for a moment I'd said too much.
He stormed on and I followed along. Somehow during his
ranting he kicked off one running shoe. I rescued it
and carried it for him. I think he was heading for home
but I managed to steer him to my house.
Gerry wasn't home yet. Travis slumped down on the
couch. I poured him a large glass of water but he
wouldn't take it. I sat beside him on the couch. He
said mournful things. I was scared. I didn't know if he
might be suicidal. He cried. I put my arm around him.
He lay his head on my shoulder. I was overwhelmed by
the tenderness of the moment. Here I was basically
cuddling with the most beautiful boy I'd seen since
Kyle - except I was starting to fall for Travis in an
even bigger way than I did with Kyle. And Travis was
becoming even more beautiful to my eyes then Kyle had
been.
The phone rang. I went to it. It was John. He correctly
guessed that we'd came to my place.
"Jesus Christ, John! Is this kid suicidal or what? You
gotta get over here!" John told me to relax. He
explained that this happens sometimes and not to worry.
Travis was just drunk. He wouldn't do anything crazy.
They were taking Sherry home. Travis was my
responsibility alone.
Travis had meanwhile stumbled to the bathroom. I heard
him puking into the toilet. When I finally got off the
phone I found Travis lying on the bathroom floor. There
was puke on his shirt and on the floor. He was pretty
much out of it. I pulled him to a sitting position and
leaned him against the tub. Thankfully he was only 130
lbs and easy to manhandle. He'd somehow got a bit of
vomit in his hair.
"Come on buddy. You're going in the shower." I pulled
his shirt off him. He was a rag doll. He co-operated to
the small degree his semi-consciousness allowed. I
pulled his socks off him. He had beautiful feet - size
8 and very smooth. I was stunned that I'd never really
noticed how cute his feet were before.
"Come on, stand up! Let's get your pants off!" I
couldn't believe this was happening. I wrapped my arms
around his sleek naked torso and lifted. He cooperated.
I leaned him against the wall and unbuttoned his jeans.
I dragged down the zipper. My heart was beating like a
hammer. This crazy episode was becoming the most erotic
encounter I'd ever had. I started to pull his pants
down.
"I'm okay," he blurted. He stumbled out of his jeans
and struggled to free himself from his white underwear
while I 'spotted' him. He was naked. There wasn't one
millimeter of space on his body I wouldn't be thrilled
to lick. I'd have licked his puke off him if he'd
offered! He was that sexy. I wrapped one arm around his
narrow waist and turned on the water with the other.
I guided Travis under the spray. The water hit my
clothes. It hit the floor. I couldn't have cared less.
I was prepared to stay there and hold him. I was
prepared to wash him myself. Good god, how I wanted to
do that.
"I'm okay," he said again. He was snapping out of it. I
left him to wash himself.
One of the couches pulled out into a bed. I dressed it
up with two sheets. No blankets. It was warm in the
house.
He wandered into the room in just a towel and wet hair,
looking unbearably cute and sexy.
"Where'm I sleepin?"
"Right here."
He dropped the towel and fell naked onto the bed.
I went and gathered up his clothes - everything - and
put them in the laundry. I went back upstairs to find
Gerry home. He stood staring at the couch, mouth agape.
"Is that Travis?" he gasped.
"Yep."
"He's naked!"
"Yep."
"You stripped him naked? Are you crazy? What's he gonna
think when he wakes up?"
I explained the situation. Gerry went to bed. I stayed
up to stare at Travis's body and jerk off. I came
several times.
The next morning I found Travis sitting at the kitchen
table wearing just a sheet. He didn't remember a single
thing from the night before. I told him everything -
except the jerking off of course.
"So was I walking around here naked?" he asked,
grinning adorably.
"No." - not nearly for long enough, I wanted to add but
refrained.
I fetched his clothes from the laundry. He dropped the
sheet and dressed right in front of me. I tried not to
stare.
I was now officially infatuated with Travis. His face,
his body, his sweet demeanor. I loved everything about
him. I desperately wished to spend another night alone
with him but there was no prospect for that to happen.
I came up with a plan. It was devious. I'm not proud of
this.
Travis is a New York Giants fan. I bought tickets-
Giants vs. Redskins. I paid a fortune for them. And if
the plan failed it would mean a lot of hard-earned
money up in smoke.
We were out drinking after our soccer game as usual. I
told him a co-worker had Giants tickets he didn't want
and offered them to me because I'm a Redskins fan. This
was all a lie. Travis was thrilled. He wanted to go.
He'd never been to an NFL game before. It would be a
long drive, I explained. I wanted to get a hotel room.
I would pay for it. He was agreeable. I was thrilled. I
went out and bought a Redskins jersey.
*
I don't remember much of the game. I bought us plenty
of beers and watched Travis get drunk. We partied after
the game and eventually cabbed it to the hotel. I'd
made sure to get a room with one bed only. He slept in
just his white underwear. I cherished the experience of
lying beside him in bed. I was too afraid to touch him.
In the morning we watched TV in bed. He lay on top of
the covers, still in just his undies. He leaned against
the headboard with his right foot flat on the bed, his
right knee up and his left ankle crossed over his right
knee. I lay to his right and I stared at the sole of
his foot for the longest time. This boy had the cutest
face, sexiest body, sweetest butt and cutest feet I'd
ever seen. He was a walking jackpot of sexuality. It
was all overwhelming.
*
Travis and I were becoming good friends. I was falling
ever so much in love with him. I confessed this to
Gerald. He didn't mind at all. He was also entranced
with Travis's adorable looks and sexy body and urged me
to take advantage of any situation I could.
I dreamed of being Travis's best friend. I dreamed of
being able to take him in my arms and hug him. I
dreamed of being privileged to rub his feet. I couldn't
imagine being so lucky as to have any of these things
come true. Little did I know.
I came out of the closet to John and to Travis. Both
were totally cool with it but urged me not to tell
anyone else on the team.
The Jersey trip for a Giants game would become a
tradition. The next season we got to two games. At the
first game Travis joined me in the hotel lobby when I
went in to register. The bastard at the desk saw that
our room had just one bed and offered us a room with
two beds. Same price. Travis was right there, so I was
forced to agree. I was heartbroken.
He got very drunk again. Back at the hotel he stripped
off his shirt and laid down on the bed - on top of the
covers. He was passed out in no time. I was frightfully
nervous. I knew what I had to do. I carefully laid down
on his bed beside him. I was uncontrollably nervous. My
heart was pounding so hard I imagined it was shaking
the whole bed. I couldn't seem to calm myself. I wanted
so bad to somehow cuddle with him but what would he do
if he awoke and caught me in his bed?
All of a sudden he was awake and throwing up! He didn't
even notice my presence until I grabbed him and lifted
him upright. He soiled that bed something awful!
He showered and emerged in just his underwear - boxers
now. I invited him to share my bed. I'd rolled all his
sheets into a ball and stuffed them in the far corner
of the room but his mattress was damp. He accepted.
These were smaller beds. He fell asleep. I rolled onto
my side facing him. I put my arm around him. I loved
it. I must have laid awake for an hour gently holding
him.
He awoke suddenly. I pretended to be asleep. He took my
wrist and gently lifted my arm off him and slipped out
of bed to use the bathroom. He never said anything
about my arm being around him.
We continued playing soccer the next season. After a
game Travis alone came to my place. Gerry was out. We
didn't drink. We just talked. He was going to stay the
night and removed his shirt as he got ready for bed. I
desperately wanted to share that pull-out couch with
him.
I became very emotional. I confessed my love for him. I
cried and cried. He was very understanding. He wasn't
like Kyle at all.
"I'd give anything to hug you," I said through tears.
"Anything."
"Okay," he said. I couldn't believe it. I invited him
to put his shirt back on. I wanted to demonstrate that
it wasn't about sex - even though to a large degree it
was. He didn't bother re-dressing. I wrapped a thin bed
sheet around him and then I put my arms around him. It
was the sweetest thing that had ever happened to me. I
held him tight. He hugged me back.
"You don't have to hug me back," I said.
"That's okay," he said. I held him close. I wanted him
to feel the tenderness. I wanted him to feel the
sincerity. It felt to me that my poor overburdened
heart was finally releasing this tremendous mass of
love that was running through my arms and into him. I
wanted him to feel that love.
"I don't want to let go," I pleaded.
"That's okay," he said. He was so kind to me. He's not
gay, if that's what you're thinking. I've never doubted
he's straight. But
while he has a lot of hang-ups and insecurities about
certain things, he's always been entirely comfortable
with his body and with all things sexual.
I caressed the back of his head and his neck. I kissed
him on the cheek and finally pulled away. This was the
first of many, many hugs and that wasn't the only
liberty he would eventually grant me.
At the next Giants game we managed four tickets and
John and Gerald came along. Only John got particularly
drunk. The next morning Travis was in the shower when
Gerald proposed we fill the ice bucket with cold water
and dump it over Travis for a joke. I guess we weren't
quiet enough about it and Travis caught on.
As Gerald approached the shower, Travis whipped the
curtain back and tried to upset the bucket onto Gerald.
They both got doused. Gerald took the worst of it,
getting his clothes wet but he was thrilled to finally
see Travis's dick and wrestle with a gorgeous naked
boy.
Gerald and I shared a lodge in cottage country with
three other couples, two gay and one straight. We were
all great friends. We spent most of our summer weekends
their. John and Travis and their girlfriends rarely
visited us there. They were just teenagers after all
and my lodge buddies ranged from early 20's to early
40's at the time.
But John and Travis's group began to disintegrate. Both
of them broke up with their girlfriends. Then their
friendship turned sour. Travis had been fired from his
job and blamed John (they were co-workers) for having a
part in it. The others in the gang sided with John. I
sided with Travis naturally. The feud became serious.
We were ostricized, cut from the soccer team. I was
thrilled! I wouldn't miss them one bit. This brought
Travis and I much closer together. I became his only
close friend. We found another soccer team who took us
on. I asked Travis one day if we were best friends. He
said yes. I was euphoric. I hugged him tenderly.
He started visiting us at the lodge more often and
became friends with all our gay friends. They teased me
about Travis. They knew damn well I had a thing for
him.
"He looks 14!" they would tell me. They were right.
Travis was a very late developer physically.
During one visit to the lodge I sat at one end of a
couch while he sat at the other. I told him to give me
his foot and I would give him a foot rub. It had taken
me a long time to find the courage to propose this and
I was very sad when he declined.
During another visit he lay on the couch with his eyes
closed. I couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not. I
moved fast. I grabbed his ankle, lifted it, turned and
sat with his small socked foot in my lap and began to
massage it. He opened his eyes, looked at me and closed
them again. He didn't object!
I was so turned on and so nervous I thought I would
have a heart attack. My face was burning. I must have
been blushing something awful. After rubbing his foot
and toes through his white sock for a while and
absolutely loving every moment of it, I put it down and
grabbed the other foot. Heart beating wildly I summoned
all the courage I could muster and pulled off the sock.
His warm smooth foot in my hands turned me on like
nothing ever before in my life. I lovingly rubbed,
caressed and fondled every toe and every inch of his
foot and ankle. Then I put the sock back on for him.
"Thank you," was all he said. I went to the bathroom
and dropped my pants. My shorts were full of pre-come
even though I didn't recall having an erection during
the footrub. I jerked off and came quickly. I kept
jerking off and came again.
*
The next Friday I arrived at the lodge without Gerald.
He had stopped coming regularly. But that evening he
showed up unexpectedly with Travis in tow. Travis had
phoned our home looking for me and asking if he could
come to the lodge for the whole weekend! Knowing how
much it would mean to me, Gerald brought him up. We all
hit the booze pretty hard. Travis was drunk and I was
on cloud nine, knowing he would probably share my bed
that night. I would never have dreamed what a wild time
was about to be had that night!
One of the other couples, Bill and Carson, had brought
a friend as well. Her name was Lois. She was a top-
heavy girl. She was straight and a self-admitted fag-
hag. I've never seen her again since but I'll never
forget her for the incredible favor she would
unwittingly do me that night.
All ten of us were gathered around the bon-fire that
evening after dark. We'd been drinking perhaps heavier
then usual and the mood was campy, funny and merry.
Travis was having a great time. At one point my buddies
were teasing me about my end-of-night ritual, which was
to always take a quiet walk by the lake with someone
before retiring to bed. They were playfully ragging on
me saying they'd all taken a turn and I would be on my
own that night.
"Come on Chad, I'll go with you!" blurted Travis and
stood to leave. The night was far from over but who was
I to turn down a walk in the dark with a gorgeous drunk
boy! I grabbed a couple extra beers and we headed away.
The lake wasn't far. We sat on a bench and talked
quietly under a thousand stars. We listened to the
loons calling. He said how lucky I was to have a place
like this. He'd rarely been in such an environment in
his life. He said it must be nice to sit on the dock
and put your feet in the water!
"I don't know," I said. "Let's find out, shall we?" he
immediately stripped off his runners and socks as did I
and we walked down to the dock. I was in shorts and I
sat at the end of the dock and put my legs in the mild
water. Travis was wearing jeans. He started to join me
then realized his pants were getting wet. So he stood
up and took them off, joining me in just his tee shirt
and boxers! I was delighted.
Travis confessed that he was turned on by Lois' big
breasts and hinted he'd like to sleep with her. I knew
he'd only ever slept with one girl - his ex girlfriend
Sherry.
The dock shook. Gerald had appeared behind us. He
whistled at Travis.
"Nice legs!" he praised.
"You know I never been skinny dipping!" announced
Travis. Gerald and I looked at each other like we'd
just one the lottery.
"We do all the time," said Gerald. This was a strategic
lie of course. "I think I'll go for a dip now!" He
added and began to disrobe. Travis scrambled to his
feet and standing right beside me, facing me, he peeled
off the tee shirt and dropped the shorts. I looked up
at his beautiful naked dick. Gerald grabbed his bare
little ass and Travis squealed playfully and thrust his
groin forward to escape the groping, nearly whacking my
forehead with his dick! I'm sure he was teasing us
purposely. He was always very uninhibited when under
the influence of alcohol.
The three of us horsed around in the water. Gerald took
to grabbing Travis and "throwing" him at me! This gave
us both plenty of opportunity to get our hands on his
firm naked body.
When Travis decided he'd had enough he tried to climb
back up on to the dock and of course Gerald and I
helped him, getting liberal feels of his adorable ass
in the process. We all climbed out and Gerald and I
used our shirts to dry ourselves the best we could. We
had extra clothes in the lodge of course. Travis began
walking naked toward the lodge.
"I'll just dry off by the fire!" he declared.
"Whoa there!" said Gerald and grabbed his arm, leading
him back, worried I suppose, what the others would say
about a naked boy wandering around. I was fine with
that idea. I thought Travis's body was the eighth
wonder of the world and should be seen by everyone on
the planet! And I knew Carson and Ray wouldn't mind.
They'd both on separate occasions asked me enviously if
I'd been sleeping with Travis. But whether their
respective partners, Bill and Walt might get jealous or
not, I didn't know.
I took Travis's tee shirt and somewhat dried him with
it. He giggled as I buffed his butt cheeks. Then he
again wandered off toward the lodge, still naked.
"Chad!" Gerald growled, "Do something!"
"Who cares?" said I. "Don't worry about it." So he
didn't. We got dressed and Gerald rounded up the boy's
clothes while I returned to the campfire.
Ray and Walt had already gone inside to bed as had
Mark, our straight friend. Most unfortunately Mark's
wife Pauline was busy fetching a blanket to cover
Travis up with. Lois wasn't shy to look at Travis' body
and they both laughed and giggled about it. Carson just
sat there gazing at Travis like he was looking through
the gates of heaven, praying to get in.
Pauline appeared with a blanket and offered it to
Travis. He stood from his lawn chair and turned around.
All eyes looked at his butt until Pauline wrapped the
blanket around him.
He sat. Our chairs were adjacent. We all talked. More
beer was consumed. The subject of massage came up. This
was one of Gerald's penchants, both giving and
receiving. He started giving Lois a shoulder rub. I got
brave. I stood behind Travis and gave him one. He
dropped the blanket to his waist and asked me to
scratch his back. I did. I was thrilled that he
welcomed my touch. He kept asking me to do it harder.
He asked again and again. I was alarmed how viciously
he wanted me to scratch. My nails were leaving white
lines on his back.
Gerald approached and began to help out.
"Why do you like this, Travis," he asked? "Did Sherry
do this to you?"
"Yeah," he responded.
"When you had sex?" probed Gerald.
"That's right!" he admitted. I was amazed at Gerald's
perceptiveness and thrilled with the situation. Here
was the sexiest boy ever - being pawed by two older gay
guys, stared longingly at by another, and the sexual
connotations were all over the place.
"Why don't you lay on the bench? It'll be easier,"
suggested Gerald. Travis stood and stepped to the bench
and then to my shock and unbridled delight, he pulled
off the blanket, laid it on the bench and then
stretched out on top of it, face down, his adorable
nude body entirely exposed to several grateful
admirers!
Gerald and I knelt on either side of him and slowly,
lovingly scratched his back - and his butt - and his
legs. We would run our nails down his back, over his
sweet little ass - and down his legs. Then - and this
is the best part - we would retrace our path but with
the palms of our hands, smoothing over his baby-soft
skin. He had hair on his head, armpits and pubic area -
and a little on his shins. That was it. The caressing
of his bare butt was the most arousing thing I'd ever
experienced up to that moment - but things would get
even better!
Do you like your feet scratched? I asked. He didn't
reply. I went and sat at his feet, taking one into my
hands. It was a little dusty from walking around naked.
I lightly scratched the sole of his adorable foot.
"You know what I love?" said Lois. I looked up. Pauline
had gone to bed by this time. I hadn't noticed when. I
think she was uncomfortable with all this. Lois was
looking at me as I played with Travis's bare foot.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Getting my toes sucked!" A shiver went through me. I
could have kissed her for saying this.
"Really?" said I, playing dumb. I held Travis's foot
towards her. "Show me how!" Lois giggled wildly at this
but didn't move to accept the offer. I turned back to
the foot in my hands. The toes were so small, so
adorable. I took them between my lips. I ran my tongue
along them. God, how I loved it. I sucked and sucked,
moving from one side to the other, usually sucking a
few toes at a time. I switched feet and sucked some
more. I had a hard-on now and didn't care if anyone
noticed.
Bill excused himself and left for bed. Carson said he'd
be right in. But first he approached us and began to
assist Gerald with the scratching of Travis's back.
"You do his back," instructed Gerald, "I'll do his
bum!" That startled me. Surely Travis would object at
this point. He turned slightly, trying to peer over his
shoulder at us.
"Is someone sucking my toes?" he asked.
"Yeah," said I, praying he wouldn't tell me to stop.
"I can hardly feel it," he said, and rested his head
back in his folded arms. Did he want me to suck harder,
I wondered. Or was that his way of telling me to just
give up on it. I didn't know how to take the comment.
So I just continued to lick and suck his beautiful
toes.
Gerald was rubbing and squeezing his narrow butt
cheeks.
"Did Sherry ever nibble your bum?" asked Gerald.
"No," said Travis.
"Do you mind if I?" Again I thought he'd gone too far.
"I don't care," Travis murmured. I was shocked. Gerald
wasted no time. His lips and teeth were all over the
boy's sweet ass. Carson was practically drooling on
himself.
We continued our worshipful assault on his naked body.
"Spread your legs a little," I heard Gerald say. And to
my continued amazement Travis complied. I finally took
a break from his feet and moved next to his butt,
across from Gerald. His lips were glued to one firm ass
cheek. I tapped him on the head. I wanted a turn and
Gerald understood. As he lifted his head I saw that his
arm was between Travis's legs. He withdrew it, took my
wrist and thrust my hand into that same position. I
suddenly had Travis's balls in my hand! I fondled them
lovingly while I attacked his firm buns with my lips
and tongue. Gerald took a turn sucking toes.
My lips found Travis's crack. I pushed my tongue in. I
probed downward. I found his little rose bud. I gave my
first ever rim job to a gorgeous straight teenager
while 3 people looked on. Who could have imagined?
Travis finally put a stop to it. He carefully turned
himself over on to his back. I prayed that he would be
hard. I would suck it for sure.
He wasn't hard. He sat upright on the bench. He wanted
to just sit and talk and watch the fire. So we did
that. We sat and talked. Travis watched the fire and
the rest of us watched his dick. Gerald asked him if we
could take pictures of him.
"I don't care," he said. But no one had a camera handy.
That was perhaps the worst tragedy of my existence -
that no one had a damn camera that night.
Eventually Lois, Carson and Gerald went to bed leaving
Travis and I alone at the fire, he still naked and
sitting very close to me on the bench. I had been
softly rubbing his shoulders, back, neck and the back
of his head. I adored every minute of it and took long
looks at his flaccid dick, not worried whether he
noticed my gaze or not.
I let the fire die and asked him if he was ready for
bed. He wanted to go for a walk first. Perhaps he
wished to walk off some of the drunkenness and avoid
throwing up as he was somewhat prone to do. He climbed
into boxers despite my assurances that we wouldn't be
seen and that he was welcome to streak.
On our walk we came to the tennis courts. The gate was
unlocked and we went inside. He took a barefoot jog
around the court before grasping onto the tall fence
and beginning to climb. I rushed up behind him worried
he might fall. Under the guise of spotting him I
caressed the back of his smooth legs as he climbed.
"That's far enough, buddy! Come on. Come down," I
urged. He obeyed, thank goodness and descended. As his
butt was even with my face he seemed to start to slip.
I suspect he was well aware of my proximity and was
purposely initiating contact, but I'm not sure. I
immediately threw my arms around him without thought to
where I was grabbing him. As it were, my right arm
wrapped around his waste, the left slipped between his
legs and I clamped onto his package, dick, balls and
all! I held him in this awkward and intimate way and
guided him to the ground.
We made our way to the shore - a different spot then
before - not by the dock. Here there was a picnic table
on the narrow beach. He sat on the top of it, feet on
the bench. I sat on the bench beside his feet. We both
faced the water. We talked about serious things -
relationships, sex, religion, goals in life - things he
would never talk about when sober. I eventually worked
my way around so that I was facing him. I caressed his
foot, his slightly fuzzy shin, his cute knee and
eventually, his smooth thigh. He didn't seem to mind.
Finally we returned to the lodge. We didn't have to
discuss sleeping arrangements. He went straight to my
bed and sat on it. Gerald, his bed in the same room,
awoke. We didn't like to sleep in the same bed - at
home or at the lodge. This was no symptom of
relationship problems as some dull-minded associates
would allude to. One gets a better night's sleep with a
bed to one's self. It's common sense.
Gerald conversed with Travis as I fetched a rag and
soaked it. I returned to the bedroom as Gerald left for
the bathroom. I carefully wiped the boy's dusty feet
clean. He then stretched out on the bed and scooted
over to the far side - by the wall. It warmed my heart
that he simply assumed we would sleep together and had
no objection. I climbed in beside him and lay on my
back. After a moment Gerald returned.
"Is he asleep?"
"I dunno. Travis, you asleep?" No answer. The poor
thing had crashed instantly - unless he was choosing
not to answer. Gerald dropped to his knees and gently
sucked each of Travis's toes before returning to his
bed.
I rolled over to face my young bed partner.
"Good night sweetie," I whispered. "I love you." I put
an arm around him. I silently shed some tears. They
were neither tears of joy or of sorrow - or perhaps
both. I just felt so much love for him that the emotion
overwhelmed me.
Perhaps it was two weeks later when Travis came to the
lodge for another overnighter. There was no skinny-
dipping, no nudity. At bedtime we retired to my
bedroom. Gerald hadn't come this weekend so there was
no reason for Travis and I to share a bed. But for the
moment we both sat on Gerald's bed and talked quietly.
We hadn't drank all that much that night so I was
nervous about trying to initiate any contact. We talked
about the old soccer gang and some of the trouble and
good times we'd gotten into. We laughed quietly.
Pulse racing, I slid a tad farther away from him on the
bed and reached for his shin. I tried to lift his leg
but he held it firm for a moment, somewhat alarmed, not
understanding what I was up to.
"It's okay," I said and tried again. He allowed me to
move his leg so that his bare foot was on my lap. I
lovingly massaged his small feet, alternating every ten
minutes or so while we talked and laughed into the
night. Finally I gave him a hug, wrapping my arms and
hands around his bare back and shoulders and then went
to my own bed. I had desperately wanted to kiss his
feet during the massage but didn't have the guts. But I
was clever. I knew how to get across this barrier.
*
Returning home that Sunday Gerald was all ears as I
recounted Travis's visit. When I told him of the foot-
rub, I told a lie. It was a good lie, a fun lie, a
necessary lie. I told him that each time I was about to
switch feet, I would give the sole of his foot a brief
kiss. In essence, I had told him I'd been kissing
Travis's feet while Travis was sober and he hadn't
objected. This gave Gerald the impression that oral
contact with Travis's feet was now sanctioned
territory.
A short time later we entertained friends at our home,
Travis included. He was the last to leave. When the
others had gone, Gerald took a seat on the floor in
front of the couch, scooped up Travis's socked foot and
began to rub it. So I, sitting next to Travis, grabbed
his other foot, pulled it to my lap and did likewise.
We continued to chat and watch TV. I stripped off the
sock and was thrilled all over again to have such a
cute warm naked foot in my hands.
Gerald did likewise with the other foot. And then,
believing it an established routine, Gerald kissed
Travis's naked foot! It turned me on immensely to see
this. Over the course of the next hour or so we
competed to give the boy the best foot rub. At one
point I leaned forward and took Travis's small toes in
my mouth and sucked. Travis squealed and pulled away. I
released him.
"Don't do that," he said.
"You didn't mind a couple weeks ago at the lodge," I
pointed out to no reply.
Though he objected to the toe-sucking he didn't seem to
mind the kissing and so we both kissed his feet - top
and bottom - on several occasions. Finally we
surrendered his cute feet, not wanting to push the
envelope too much. We put his socks back on for him and
soon after he left for home. Gerald and I were both
entirely turned on and immediately jerked off together
as soon as Travis left.
This was the beginning of a pattern that would last for
years. Gerald and I - or more often, just I - would
give him foot rubs almost every time we got together;
at our house, his apartment (he moved away from his
mom's house), even at other friend's houses in front of
an audience! To this day I still give him the
occasional foot rub and still kiss his feet or toes. He
still has soft smooth little feet.
But there were also times that I got to explore other
parts of his firm young body!
GERALD REVISITED
Gerald and I continued to explore our exposure kink. He
was a very good house painter and he did some painting
for our friend Pat - the somewhat older fellow that I
met my second time out to the gay support group and who
became a very close friend.
Gerald did the painting in the nude while Pat hung
around and later they lounged in the living room
talking, Gerald still naked, lying on the couch, his
dick often hard while Pat stayed fully clothed.
On another occasion Pat slept over in our guest room.
We left our bedroom door open and Pat discovered us
having sex with the light on when he got up to use the
bathroom. We invited him in and he was full of
compliments for Gerald's body and felt him up liberally
before returning to the guestroom.
*
Owen was a cute younger fellow who we met while he
dated a friend of ours. After breaking up, Owen severed
ties with our circle of friends except for Gerald and
I. One evening as he visited us in our home the
conversation kept turning to sex and Owen seemed to be
the instigator.
"If I didn't know better I'd say you were trying to
engineer a threesome!" I said.
"But I am!" he said with a sweet grin. That was all it
took and Gerald and I began stripping him naked. He had
a very smooth sturdy body, cute feet, and as we pulled
down his boxer shorts we found he had a very big dick.
Gerald, the more expert cock-sucker went to town on it
and Owen continually begged him to be rougher. He was
not at all sensitive. He liked his dick nibbled and
loved it when I rubbed it against my unshaven jaw.
Gerald eventually got naked but I preferred to stay
dressed as I usually do when a partner has a nicer body
than mine. To me sex is rarely about reciprocation.
It's all about the worship of the beautiful one. I did
take out my dick though and jerk off while we played.
I came home from soccer one night and saw a strange
pair of shoes by the front door. I went immediately to
the bedroom and was thrilled to find Gerald and Owen
going at it in the dark. I joined the fun. At one point
Gerald took Owen's smallish foot in his hands and began
to lick his sole and suck his toes. I came immediately.
*
My first real boyfriend, Ted - still the only partner
I've ever had great two-way reciprocal sex with - came
back into our lives when he moved back to our city.
Gerald was talking to him on the phone one evening and
he told me to pick up the other extension. I did.
Gerald was telling Ted how jealous he had been back
when Ted and I were dating because he had such a crush
on both of us. It became a rather explicit and sexy
conversation. Ted was in a relationship but an 'open'
one and soon we arranged a date for a threesome.
It was great fun. Ted still had a great body. We all
stripped each other and took turns getting worshipped
by the other two. I sucked Ted while Gerald rimmed his
ass. They put their lips together with my dick between
and basically blew me simultaneously while four hands
explored my chest and my balls. It was a wild
sensation.
Gerald loved it. It was a fantasy finally come true for
him. He took photographs of Ted and I going at it but
the photo store wouldn't print them. He still has the
negatives.
*
One evening Ted and two other friends ended up at our
place at the same time. The other two friends had both
at one time or another been privy to one of Gerald's
naked 'performances'. Whether they had shared this
information with each other I don't know. We put
together a spontaneous dinner and afterwards just
relaxed at the table, opened more wine and beer and got
nicely buzzed.
Gerald disappeared for a moment and returned wearing
just a pair of shorts. He came up behind me and wrapped
his arms around me. I reached back and felt my way to
his zipper.
"Hey, what are you doing?" he cried playfully.
"He's taking off your shorts, what do you think?"
stated Ted, clearly game for what we had in mind.
"But I'm not wearing underwear!" said Gerald.
"So!" said Ted. I eyed our other friends. One looked
like he was into it. One looked a little nervous. Ted
was all smiles. I turned in my chair and swiftly
deprived Gerald of his pants. He was naked. He played
shy and tried to hide behind me. I kept reaching back
to touch him.
Finally at Ted's encouragement he moved slightly to one
side and rested his hardening dick on my shoulder for
all to see. I caressed it. It grew harder. I guided him
closer to the table - beside me. I played with his dick
for an audience of three.
"Kiss it!" urged Ted. So I kissed it.
"No!" said Ted, "Kiss means to suck it!"
So I did. I sucked his dick in front of three friends.
Ted left his seat and came around to fondle Gerald's
ass. He reached around and touched his chest. He
grabbed the chair Gerald had been sitting in, pulled it
far back from the table and sat down. He grabbed Gerald
and pulled him back on to his lap. He reached around
and jerked Gerald off until he came. It was all quite
erotic - at least to four of us. The one guy wasn't too
sure what to think.
Gerald got into the gay chat rooms online. He 'met' a
fellow named Eric who claimed to be 16 and who lived in
the neighboring town - not too far from us. They agreed
to meet. I didn't believe this person was really who he
said he was and was surprised when Gerald informed me
they'd met.
Not only had they met, but Gerald had given the kid a
bare-foot rub and later sucked him off. I was impressed
to say the least.
"But is he really only 16?" I asked.
"No," said Gerald. "He'd lied about that online. He's
only 15!"
One night Gerald brought Eric to our home for a visit.
He was a strange kid from a broken home. He was thin
and blonde. He was a smoker. He had a nice body. He
continued to get blowjobs from Gerald but the two of us
didn't hit it off particularly well. There was no real
problem. Just a chemistry thing. We talked about having
a threesome some time but it never materialized. Like I
said, he was a bit of a weird kid and he talked about
wanting to get into the porn business! He wanted to do
an audition tape. His best friend was a girl his age
who knew he was gay and she had a video camera (her
parents' actually) but they both lived at home with
parents of course.
One evening Gerald showed up at our place with Eric
(now 16), his girlfriend and the camera. With very
little embarrassment, the kid stripped naked, lay on
the couch and jerked himself off in front of the three
of us while the girl filmed it.
He never did get into the porn business. He's now a
young drag queen of all things.
We heard about a bar called the Crow's Nest that held a
'naked night' every Friday. Supposedly patrons were
welcome to strip naked on these special nights. It
sounded too weird to be true and not entirely legal.
Although, in hindsight the law does afford nudist
groups the opportunity to practice their customs in
private settings. In fact I once showed up early for a
soccer game to find naked people of all age and gender
having some kind of gymnastic event at the arena. It
was quite an eye-opener and a turn-on too I must admit.
The arena was city property so I must assume this was
all legal.
The Crow's Nest was known as a leather-bar - not
anything Gerald or I were 'in' to, but nakedness we
certainly were. We showed up on Friday to find a fair
crowd of which only two or three guys were naked - that
is, they were wearing nothing but shoes. They were
significantly older gentlemen I should add. There was a
check-in guy who was very smiley and urged us to check
our clothes. I wouldn't dream of it but Gerald happily
started to strip. All his clothes went in a big plastic
bag and I pocketed his chit.
We walked around the bar. I was quite turned on seeing
Gerald exposed to such a crowd of dressed people. We
got a lot of attention. I started playing with his dick
and he was rock hard in no time. Several admirers took
great notice of us as the crowd in the bar grew bigger.
Now and then other men would grope his dick or his ass.
A group of teenagers came in but stayed clear of us.
There was one who was very cute and young-looking.
Gerald and I both were attracted to him.
At one point I went to the bar to get us both drinks
while Gerald saved our seats at the other side of the
room. The bartender had been generous with our drinks
on account of Gerald putting on such a good show. While
standing at the bar I sensed someone come up beside me
and I heard a voice say:
"Why do you keep hanging around that naked man?"
I turned around and it was none other then the cute boy
we'd been looking at!
"Because we're here together. He's my lover!" I said.
"Oh."
I asked what he was drinking and ordered him one on my
tab. He smiled a very sweet smile and thanked me and
walked away.
Later in the night a different youth approached Gerald
and they talked for some time. I couldn't hear them
over the music. Finally the kid left and Gerald turned
to me, all smiles.
"His name's Peter. Cute, isn't he?"
"Yeah I guess. Not exactly my type."
"Well, guess what, I know who IS your type. The one you
talked to at the bar. He's Peter's friend. His name's
Nathan and he's 18 and he thinks you're hot!"
"Fuck off," I said and I meant it. Years ago I would
have believed it because I was once very popular at the
bars. But those days were gone.
"I'm serious. Peter says that Nathan thinks you're the
hottest guy in the bar!" Now I was getting a little
ticked off. I didn't believe this shit for a second.
Peter came back to us with Nathan in tow. He introduced
each of us to Nathan and then resumed his conversation
with Gerald while Nathan and I stood together
awkwardly. I simply could not believe this was going
on.
Nathan asked if we could go somewhere else to talk. I
followed him to a hallway where we were basically
alone. We made small talk for a bit. I was nervous. I
still couldn't comprehend what was going on.
"You know you're the hottest the guy in the bar
tonight!" he said with a big smile. I laughed out loud.
"First of all, you must be crazy because I certainly am
not. And secondly- you're the hottest guy in the bar -
by far!"
Nathan stepped closer to me, grinning. "No, you are.
And I don't know why you want to hang out with that
naked man!"
"I told you. He's my lover."
"Yeah well, he's going home with Peter tonight."
"I don't think so," I said matter-of-factly. "He's not
leaving me here!" Nathan stepped closer still. His cute
face was right in mine.
"You can come home with me!" he said, and the next
thing I knew we were kissing. His lips were wonderfully
soft. His tongue was delicious. I pulled away.
"I can't go home with you unless Gerald comes too."
Nathan shook his head in response. "I want to fuck
you!" he announced.
"No. I'm sorry. I don't do that. I wouldn't even
undress in front of you."
"Why not?" he pouted.
"'Cause you're beautiful. It wouldn't be right," said
I.
"What WOULD you do?"
"I don't know. I'd like to see YOU naked!"
He started kissing me again.
"You're an awesome kisser!" I said. "You're making me
hard." He took my hand and placed it against his
crotch. I wasn't the only one hard. Now I was really
turned on. I rubbed him purposefully. Our tongues did
battle.
"Christ, you feel big," I blurted. He undid his button
and sucked in his flat belly. I went down the front of
his pants. No underwear. I found the base of his hard
dick and held it.
Suddenly Gerald was there with us. Nathan immediately
buttoned himself back up. Gerald wanted to go home with
Peter and wanted me to go home with Nathan. I resisted.
I wanted a threesome with Gerald and Nathan or else a
foursome. But nobody else wanted that. I finally
conceded.
We all piled into Gerald's car. He dropped Nathan and I
off at a townhouse complex and promised to be back in a
couple hours.
We went inside and a handful of other teenagers - guys
and girls were in the living room.
"These are my roommates," he announced. "Guys, this is
Chad." We all said brief hello's and then Nathan led me
to his tiny
bedroom. It all seemed rather strange and awkward.
He was into art in a big way and his walls were covered
in his own drawings and paintings. I spent a while
admiring them.
He had a little couch in his room. No bed. Perhaps the
couch was a pull-out. I don't know. We sat on it and
cuddled.
"Let's get naked," he said.
"I told you, I won't. You get naked."
"We'll see!" he teased. We cuddled some more. We
kissed. He was very cute. I loved it.
"Do you want to see my bum?" he asked suddenly.
I laughed. "Yes!"
He stood up, stepped to his desk and picked up a great
coil bound book. It was a sketchbook. He flipped to a
drawing of a young man, lying face down, naked. He
certainly had a nice bum.
"That's you?"
"Yep!"
"How'd you draw yourself?"
"From a photograph!" He rifled through some belongings,
turned up a photo and surrendered it to me. It was
definitely Nathan and he definitely had a nice ass.
"Are you sure that's you?" I teased.
"Yes," he laughed.
"I don't know, I think I'll need to see the real thing
to be sure!"
"Alright!" He leaned back and reached for his button. I
stopped him.
"Let me."
He lay there passively while I undid his pants and
tugged them off of him. I eyed his big dick. It was a
handsome one. Nathan stood and turned his back to me. I
touched his two sweet globes. I rubbed them, pinched
them and squeezed them. I leaned forward and kissed
them. I sat him back down. I knelt before him. His dick
was hardening. It was a big one. I wouldn't be able to
take it all. I would embarrass myself for being a
second-rate cock-sucker. But I had to try.
I fondled his dick. I stroked it. I loved the feel of
it in my hand. I kissed it. I licked it. I licked it
some more. I went down.
I sucked on the head of it, gave it lots of tongue. He
was vocal, appreciative. He ran his hands through my
hair. I went for broke. I plunged down further. I let
it slide right down my throat. And I didn't gag!
Amazing. My first time successfully suppressing the
gag-reflex. Gerald would be proud of me. It was the
best blow-job I'd ever given.
I think Nathan liked it. His dick got really hard. I
felt a subtle pulse in his dick. I backed up so just
the head was in my mouth and I grabbed the shaft with
my hand. Fluid gushed on to my tongue. I drank his
come. I sucked him some more as he softened. Finally I
released it from my mouth.
Nathan was all tired now and wanted to just lie in my
arms. I wanted that too but made him takes his shirt
off. He resisted because he had come. He didn't feel as
sexy any more. He was embarrassed. But I made him get
naked and we cuddled. I held his sweet nude body in my
arms.
Finally he got dressed and we went outside and sat on
the curb. Gerald eventually showed up and took me home.
Nathan had given me his phone number but I never called
it. I don't know why I didn't. I never saw him again.
WORSHIPPING TRAVIS
Travis and I had expanded on our NY Giants trips. We
started hitting other cities and other sports. Our
biggest excursion was a 6-day baseball trip in which we
hit 3 major league games, a state fair and a day at the
horse races. Two other friends joined us. We booked
hotel accommodations for the first and last nights and
for the middle three nights we booked campgrounds. One
friend supplied his parents' mini-van and the other a
big tent.
The first night at the hotel Travis and I shared a bed.
When I was confident everyone was asleep I crept out of
bed, went to the bottom end of it and folded back the
sheet, exposing Travis's cute feet. I gently kissed the
soles of his feet and jerked off all over the carpet.
The second night we were in the tent, all laid out in a
row, me at one end with Travis beside me. Again, when
it seemed all were asleep I moved to Travis's feet,
lifted his blanket and kissed his toes while I came in
my hand.
The third evening Travis and I were alone in the tent
for a moment and planning to go to the shower building
to clean up. Travis was always one to joke about
streaking and being naked.
"Maybe I'll just strip here and walk to the shower
naked and show everyone what they can't have!" he
kidded.
"But why can't they have it?" asked I. Travis just
shrugged.
We walked to the building - clothed of course and
stripped there, inside separate neighboring shower
stalls. The stalls were deep and curtained and
separated by a concrete wall roughly 7 feet high. Each
contained a chair just inside the curtain. I withdrew
my camera that I'd smuggled inside my shaving kit,
estimated what distance to set the manual focus at,
climbed on the chair and peeked over the wall, hoping
to get a quick shot of Travis's gorgeous nude body.
He caught me. That is, he saw me looking. We just made
a joke of it and laughed. He didn't see the camera. I
never got the picture.
I awoke the next morning to find Travis sitting up on
top of his blanket in just his boxers while the other
two slept. I moved and sat at his feet and we held a
whispered conversation while I massaged his bare feet,
eventually giving them kisses as I finished.
The fourth night the friend who brought the van slept
in it leaving three of us in the tent. I slept in the
middle. As Travis was getting ready for bed he was
standing in the tent - slightly slouched under the low
roof. He was in just his boxers with his back to me.
For a joke I grabbed his underwear and whisked them
down to his ankles. Our friend laughed at our antics. I
slapped his bare ass. Had the friend not been there I
would surely have kissed, licked or nibbled that sweet
butt.
"Oh, very mature, Chad." He said but stepped out of the
boxers, finished what he was doing in the nude, then
put his shorts back on and climbed into bed. This night
he decided to sleep the opposite direction - with his
feet beside my head. After we were all tucked in the
three of us talked for quite a while. The whole time I
had one hand under Travis's blanket playing with his
feet and one hand stroking my own dick.
I tried to be very covert and not let the friend catch
on to the foot-rub and not let either of them notice
that I was furtively masturbating. However 'foot-rub'
does not accurately describe this incident. I was
fondling his feet - caressing them - worshipping them.
I think Travis had to know by this point that my
attentions were not simply that of a generous masseur,
that I was getting some kind of erotic satisfaction out
of these encounters.
*
The fifth night was a very special night indeed. We all
drank heavily that evening - our last evening of the
trip. At the hotel Travis stripped to his boxers and
laid on his back on top of the covers. He was asleep in
no time as were the others. I laid down the opposite
way and went crazy on his feet. I kissed them very
wetly as I caressed his shins, ankles and feet with my
hands. I sucked on his toes. He was passed out. Nothing
would wake him. I totally made love to his feet and
with very little stimulation I came in my underwear. I
shifted around again and slept beside him.
I woke up later and eyed his bare chest. I kissed it. I
kissed his nipples. I kissed his flat tummy. I looked
at his shorts - at the bulge there. I reached out and
touched it. I was shocked to find it rock-hard at the
touch! My heart rate doubled. His dick was erect and
pointed straight toward his belly button.
I ran my finger along the ridge. I was in a frenzy of
lust. I had quite a boner of my own going on despite my
recent orgasm. I reached up the leg of his shorts and
very carefully crept north. I touched the hair on his
beautiful balls. I touched the base of his glorious
erection. I moved my fingers further along, exploring
the shaft of his wonderful hard dick. It was velvety
and warm and unimaginably sexy.
I had to see it!
I tried to bend it sideways trying to push it out the
leg of his shorts but it was the kind of erection that
just locks in place - not out but straight up against
the belly. My efforts disturbed him. He suddenly moved.
I whipped my hand out of there and dropped my head to
the pillow in a flash. I was terrified. I tried to
pretend I was sleeping while my heart pounded so hard I
thought it was shaking the entire hotel complex.
I woke up again later as the sun was only beginning to
make its presence known. Travis was still on his back.
I reached out and touched that wonderful bulge again.
He was still hard - or hard again - whichever the case
may have been. Again I sneaked my fingers up the leg of
his shorts and found his sweet balls and hard-on. I had
a good feel, running my fingers up and down his 6-inch
erection. Now 6 inches may not be especially big but it
was more than big enough on a skinny little guy like
Travis.
He again moved in his sleep, scaring the crap out of me
and prompting me to whip my hand out and fake sleep.
The next time I awoke it was mid-morning. Travis was
also waking up. I glanced down. It looked like he still
- or again - had a hard-on in his boxers. Our two
friends were both still asleep. Travis rose from the
bed and started walking around the hotel room. He
looked through his gym bag.
He went to the window and pulled the curtain back a bit
to peek outside. He picked up a watch and checked the
time. Almost the whole time he stayed in profile from
my view and there was no doubt he had an erection. It
poked against the shorts - just below the waistband. It
was pointed almost straight up - perhaps 10 or 15
degrees from vertical.
The little bastard was exhibiting himself to me. I was
sure of it. The little show-off was teasing me. Finally
he came back to the bed and sat right beside my hip,
facing the foot of the bed. Had he then lain directly
back his head would have hit the pillow. And that's
what I thought he was going to do. But no, he just sat
there. So I reached up and scratched his smooth back
for him. I did this for quite a while. I wanted to
demonstrate that I was devoted to his pleasure. In case
there was something else I could do to please him!
Finally I sat up beside him. That damn hard-on was
still making an obscene tent at the top of his shorts.
I stared right at it and he had to know it. Finally I
reached out and tapped it saying "What's that?" - sort
of as a joke.
He smacked my hand away quite aggressively. Apparently
I was allowed to look but not touch.
"Sorry," I said quietly.
Later, as we were all packed to leave and Travis and I
were about to leave the room and join our friends at
the van, I stopped him and said, "Hey, is everything
okay?"
"Sure," he replied. I threw my arms around him and gave
him a big warm hug.
*
On a trip to Washington to see a Knicks - Bullets
basketball game we shared a hotel room with one other
friend. All of us got drunk. Travis and I shared a bed.
I twice got my hand up his shorts to play with his
erect dick and twice came in my shorts while slobbering
all over the soles of his feet.
We had a friend named Reggie. Frankly the guy was a
loser that Travis and I would occasionally hang out
with out of pity - because few others would. There
wasn't anything particularly offensive about him except
that he was rather childish and socially incompetent,
not understanding how to be tactful in any given
situation. He met a girl from a complete trailer-trash
family on a telephone sex-chat line. Their first date
was at a donut shop where he bought her a coffee and
she blew him in the parking lot. That story might have
turned me on had they not both been so thoroughly
unattractive.
The wedding itself was a tedious affair. The bride's
family were all drunk out of their gourds. The rather
proper and classy family of the groom were doing their
best to hide their horror at the whole thing. Travis
and I were just grateful that we were pre-warned that
it would be a cash bar and had accordingly reduced our
wedding gifts to compensate.
But I was eternally grateful for the whole gruesome
experience because it inadvertently brought about the
most delicious and memorable event of my life thus far.
Reggie convinced Travis to host a little stag party for
him at Travis's apartment. This stag consisted of five
people! That's the best we could do for dear old Reg.
Four of us played poker all night and got drunk while
Reg spent the night on the phone talking to the wife-
to-be trying to calm all her irrational psychotic
fears. Eventually we all crashed - Reg in the spare
room, the other two guys in the living room and Travis
and I on his bed.
He slept on his back in just boxer shorts again and
with no covers on. I couldn't wait to get my hands on
his beautiful dick again. While waiting for him to fall
asleep I fell asleep myself. But I awoke in the early
morning while he was still passed out. I felt around.
Bingo. Hard again.
I reached up the leg of his shorts. These boxers were
looser than the others and my hand easily slipped in to
fondle that wonderful hard dick. Then I came to a
startling realization. My previous attempt to free his
erection was poorly planned. There was no need to bend
that iron-firm dick sideways. I merely had to raise the
leg of his boxers up over the head of his dick. I
grabbed the leg opening and pulled upwards. It was
easy. I dragged it up over the head and let the
material gather beneath his dick.
Oh, what a beautiful sight. Webster's has it all wrong
not putting a picture of Travis' hard-on next to the
word beautiful. Perhaps they asked him and he turned
them down.
It was a perfectly symmetrical unblemished circumcised
hard smooth dick pointing right up at his belly button.
It was absolutely mouthwatering. I kissed it all over
the underside. The warmth and velvetiness were a taste
of heaven to my adoring lips. I lifted it slightly away
from his tummy - with much resistance, such was the
rigidity of its position - and I slipped my lips over
the head and down. Travis - the most beautiful and sexy
boy in the world - had his hard cock in my mouth. I was
sucking his cock. I have jerked off roughly a million
times to this memory.
I sucked very gently. I didn't want to wake him. I then
left it for a while as I went down to kiss and lick his
feet and suck his toes. I then realized the stupidity
of leaving his dick out in the open while I did this -
in case he woke up and I had to abandon his feet and
pretend to be asleep. So I returned to his dick and
sucked it some more. I was utterly beside myself with
lust. Just out of my mind with sexual euphoria.
I finally regretfully replaced his boxers over his dick
and slipped into the bathroom where I jerked off and
came twice. I would come at least six more times
throughout the day just thinking about it - and roughly
four times a day for the next week or two.
The next time we shared a bed it was a cool night and
he wore underwear and track pants to bed and a T-shirt.
As he lay back on the bed I sat at the foot of it and
massaged his bare feet. He closed his eyes. I don't
think he was actually asleep. As I finished the foot
rub I raised his left foot way up to my face and
planted a long series of open-mouthed kisses along the
sole and the toes.
In the middle of the night I sat up and felt around his
crotch. His dick was hard but not very accessible. It
was all I could do to peel the track pants and undies
down a bit - just enough for me to swirl my tongue
around the delicious head of his hard-on. His body
suddenly jolted and I flew to a lying position and shut
my eyes, heart pounding like crazy.
On another sports-related trip - just the two of us - I
connived to get a one-bed hotel room and Travis got
very drunk. He stripped naked and put on pajama bottoms
and crawled under the covers. I took a shower and
wasted some time before going to bed - wanting to give
him time to fall into deep sleep. He seemed entirely
out of it.
I pulled the blankets down to his knees. I felt the
crotch of his pajamas. He was soft. I toyed with it
through the soft material of his jammies - or PJ's as
Travis likes to call them. His dick started to harden
for me. I was thrilled. I kept caressing it as it
thickened and lengthened and turned sideways and then
up toward his belly button as it locked firmly into
position. While previous encounters with his erections
may have just been piss-hard-ons for all I know - this
was clearly the result of my sexual fondling.
I was out of control with lust. I actually unbuttoned
his PJ's and fully exposed his beautiful young dick. I
caressed, kissed, licked and sucked it for about a good
half-hour. It softened once but I coaxed it back to
hardness with my worshipful sucking. I felt a brief
taste of pre-cum with this second effort. I put one
hand against my own crotch and came in my shorts.
Finally I put his dick away, buttoned him back up and
worshipped his naked feet for a while before going to
sleep. Sometimes I wonder if he was really asleep
through all of it or not. I have to assume he was.
*
Travis was approached by an older woman that he worked
with. She asked if he liked movies and proposed she
bring a couple to his place for a movie-night. Francine
was quite a bit older - late 40's. She's not at all
youthful for her age - quite the opposite in fact -
while Travis was - and still is - extremely youthful
for his age. They would become lovers for a couple
years and be constantly mistaken for mother and son.
Francine would eventually become very close friends
with Gerald and would confide almost anything in him.
Travis of course was my best friend and became quite
willing to share very intimate details with me whenever
he was drinking heavily. Thus Gerald and I were able to
piece together a lot of their personal life and sex
life. I will briefly share some of their experiences.
That first night in front of Travis's TV he laid down
on the couch as he has always been prone to do. He
didn't really understand if this was a date or not.
Late in the evening she asked if she could lie down
with him and proceeded to 'spoon' him from behind while
they watched a movie. Eventually she began to stroke
his chest through his tee shirt, then underneath the
shirt and then she drifted her fingers over his crotch
and groped him. Meeting no objection she unbuttoned his
jeans, lowered the zipper and fondled his semi-erect
dick though his boxer shorts.
Travis just laid there and soaked up the attention.
Finally she penetrated the boxers, pulled out his cock
and toyed with it for a while.
"I think it's time for bed," she whispered. He agreed.
They killed the TV, went to his bed, stripped as far as
their underwear and got in. Travis still didn't
understand if he should expect to have sex or not. They
fell asleep.
Travis awoke later in the night to find the woman's
hand down his shorts, playing with his boner again.
They threw the covers aside, lost the undies and he
fucked her like the little tiger he is.
Francine invited Travis to spend a weekend at her
little house she rented in another town. He did so.
They had lots of sex. Travis sleeps late. She doesn't.
She would be out of bed, dressed and productive long
before Travis would emerge from her bedroom. Both
Saturday and Sunday Travis was finally awakened by
Francine sucking his young dick, covers thrown off his
naked body.
She moved in to Travis's apartment. Travis's evening
routine didn't change despite having a live-in lover.
He kept the thermostat high. He would come home from
work, take his second shower of the day, put on boxers
and nothing else and lie on the couch watching TV for
the rest of the night. Only now he had Francine sitting
at the end of the couch, usually touching his bare legs
and feet. This of course, was a monumental turn-on for
me.
On a few occasions I was over at his place and
witnessed this. I would sit strategically so that I
could often see Travis balls and dick up the leg of his
shorts as he squirmed around. She would often just
caress the tops of his smooth feet but once when I was
there he asked her for a foot rub and she immediately
complied and massaged his feet all over.
I honestly wonder if he did this for his own sake or
for mine. There's no doubt he has some degree of
exhibitionist tendencies. Another time he kept sneaking
his bare foot up towards her face and would suddenly
press it against her cheek. She would giggle at this
like it was a joke while I nearly died of sexual
arousal.
I know that when I wasn't there Francine would
invariably lie down with him on the couch, her head on
his tummy and she would caress his body. She would rub
his legs and then slip her fingers up his shorts, pull
out his dick and play with it. He would usually get
hard and she would let it come to rest on her lips and
face and submit it to occasional kisses. She wanted sex
every night.
Sometimes he gave it to her and sometimes he didn't. I
can see how he controlled her this way and became the
object of her worship. Sometimes she would play with
his dick half the night without getting fucked. She
even allowed him to fuck her up the ass whenever he
wanted and that was quite often.
They made it no secret that she never left his dick
alone. She sometimes groped him through his pants in
front of friends before he pushed her hand away. He
once commented to a group of us that if the police ever
wanted Francine's fingerprints they would just dust his
dick for them.
Once the three of us shared a hotel and he lay on their
bed in just his boxers while she put her head on his
tummy. The lights were on at this time. I was watching
them furtively through the mirror. I don't know if she
was aware of this or not. Sure enough her hand went up
his shorts to play with his dick. I could clearly see
what she was doing and his balls were plainly visible.
She whispered something to him more than once.
"No," was his reply each time.
"You should just show it off!" she finally said and
gave up.
Later that night with the lights out it was extremely
dark but you could still see a tiny bit. Travis
launched a couple surprise tickle attacks on Francine
and finally my calculated comments prompted him to
sneak up on me for a surprise attack. I was in a pair
of shorts - he, just boxers. I had my hands all over
his firm tummy and sides as we tickle-wrestled. I loved
it but pretended to give in to him as Francine had done
- making him the tickle champion.
This led to a three-way battle where Francine and I
ganged up on him. I don't know if they thought I
couldn't see or just didn't care but it was obvious to
me that as we wrestled Francine had one hand down his
boxers and was aggressively rubbing his dick.
Not to be left out I slipped my hand down the back of
his shorts and unashamedly fondled his adorable smooth
little ass. We were all laughing and loving it. I don't
know if Francine knew what I was up to or not. I was
doing my best to drag Travis' shorts right off him,
thinking we were about to properly molest the boy. I
figured she would blow him while I rimmed his butt.
"Are you guys trying to get me naked?" joked Travis.
But this seemed to sober Francine up and the game came
sadly to an end.
They told me of a couple of their adventures - of her
daring Travis to run to the end of their 3rd floor
apartment building hallway and back - stark naked. He
did it. Another time she lured him naked on to the
balcony. She stood behind him, pushed him to the rail's
edge and reached around and held out his dick for the
'world' to see, not that they reported any audience.
I showed up at the apartment one time at about 4:30 PM.
I was expected. Travis answered the door wearing pajama
bottoms and a hard-on. Nothing else. He stood sideways
as he opened the door for me. I couldn't miss the tent
in his PJ's. He was totally hard. It was sticking
almost straight up - roughly 10 degrees from his tummy.
I sat on the couch to wait for him to get ready. We
were going out. He walked back and forth in front of me
a couple times for no apparent reason - the tent from
his woody plainly on display. I'm still not sure how to
interpret all this.
Another time at his place I made a phone call on his
behalf while he was in the bathroom getting ready to go
out. I can't remember the nature of the call but the
merchant needed more information than I knew. Travis
had just finished showering and was still in the
bathroom. I called him to the phone.
He marched up to me naked, his dick semi-erect. He took
the phone from me and talked briefly. I scratched his
back then drifted south rubbing his smooth bare butt. I
was delighted he let me do that without objection (not
the first or last time for that) but I was upset with
myself later that I didn't make a grab for his semi-
hard dick.
*
Our last sports trip was a marathon. Neither of us had
ever been to California and I had many relatives out
there. We went for two weeks. We stayed a few nights at
hotels but mostly with family. My relatives all
mistakenly assumed that Travis was my lover and bunked
us in shared beds even though some of them had large
enough houses to board us separately. I certainly
didn't complain.
Every night as we prepared for bed I rubbed his feet
and kissed them. We were fairly moderate in our
drinking and so he never properly passed out - thus I
had no opportunity to covertly explore his dick.
One night near the end of our stay we returned to the
hotel late. We undressed for bed and I went to the
bathroom. When I came out I was shocked to see Travis
lying on the bed, face down, stark naked!
I sat beside him and scratched his back. He said
nothing. I let the scratching migrate into a back
massage. He still said nothing. I continued down,
briefly rubbing his naked ass, then his legs and feet.
Then back up I went and rubbed his smooth butt some
more. He still was silent though I'm sure he was awake.
I went crazy on his firm little ass. I kissed his butt
cheeks several times. I finally spread his cheeks and
thrust my tongue between them, rimming him properly.
Finally he began to move, turning on to his side. I was
thrilled the time had come. He was going to let me blow
him. But no. He squirmed out from under me, pulled back
the covers and climbed under them. I moved out of his
way.
"Good night," was all he said.
The next morning I awoke late and turned on the TV. It
was September 11. There on the news was an image of the
torn Pentagon, smoke drifting from its' side.
"Jesus Christ!" I yelped. Travis awoke at this.
"Someone bombed the Pentagon!"
Little did we know.
Soon we were looking at more images. A familiar tower
was collapsing to the ground. I literally did not
believe my eyes. A demolished World Trade Centre could
not exist in my reality. My brain just wouldn't process
it.
"That's what we get for electing Bush," Said Travis
bitterly. "That's what we get for going out in the
world and fucking with everybody."
I was hurt by those words. I don't think he'd ever
offended me before. 'You don't even vote!' I felt like
yelling at him but I said nothing. I loved him. I could
never criticize him out loud. I could only love him.
That's the kind of sucker I am.
We sat and watched the TV all morning, slowly coming to
accept a new reality. We were supposed to fly home in a
couple days. We were getting concerned about that. I
wanted to see the flight tickets. Travis said they were
in his gym bag. I got out of bed and searched the bag.
He tried to direct me to the right pocket. I couldn't
find them anywhere. Finally he got frustrated and
jumped out of bed to find them himself.
He was still naked. And he was hard. Very hard. Not
quite all the way - not locked against his belly as I'd
seen before as he slept. But it seemed full size and
bobbed around a little higher than horizontal. I was on
my knees.
He stood right in front of me. The gym bag was on top
of the low dresser and he stooped over to rummage
through it. His hard-on bobbed before me. I just stared
at it. Travis either didn't know, or wouldn't admit
that I'd ever seen his naked erection before.
"Take a good look," he muttered, "You'll never see it
again." I did more than look. I reached out and wrapped
my fingers around it.
"Can I help you?" he snapped at me. He was objecting to
my touch but didn't pull away. My mind was a fog of
sorrow, anger, love and lust.
"I want to make you come," I croaked and leaned
forward, mouth open. The head of that beautiful dick
hit my tongue. I tried to close my lips around it. I
tried to swallow him whole. I yearned to worship his
body the best way I knew how. But he pulled away and I
let him go. He crawled back under the covers. We said
nothing. I'd gone too far. I sat on the floor and
fought the urge to cry. Finally I got up and headed for
bed. I hoped this whole morning was all a fucked up
dream and I would later awaken from it.
I sat on the side of my bed looking at Travis. His
beautiful face was looking at the ceiling. I moved to
his side. I swept his dark hair from his forehead and
kissed him gently there.
"I love you, Travis. My heart is breaking for you." The
tears fell. Travis's arm came out from under the
covers. He gently cupped his hand around my forearm.
"I know. It's okay. Everything's okay."
I knew he was right. Despite all the complications he
was my true best friend. My beautiful little
heterosexual Adonis was my best friend and everything
was going to be okay.
****
Feedback most welcome! If you enjoyed reading my little
biography please let me know. thegarg0yle@hotmail.com
[Note the '0' in garg0yle is a zero!]
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 37