Chapter 3
Boys Will Be Girls
"What a drag my thirty-second birthday turned out to be ... and I do mean drag. I'd gotten to know so many drag queens in my recent history that it seemed like every queen in the Bay Area had shown to pay homage to the fact that I was another step closer to the grave. And they love to rub it in, those silly gooses. Oh, see how they are!
"Actually it would have been simply marvy if it had happened a couple of years ago ... back when my fascination with transvestites was at its zenith .... But now ... well, like so many other things in what was rapidly becoming my 'jaded past,' they were becoming passe. I'd had my fill of these mincing, bitchy shemales and was restless for something new.... No not their fault, really-mine. I just couldn't seem to find my 'thing' as they call it. It seemed like everything I'd strived for and wanted, that every goal I sought to achieve was only there so that once I had captured the prize I could choose to ignore it. The only fascination seemed to be in stalking the prey ... not in the meal. Oh, see how I am!
"It's not that I really have anything against drag queens-some of my best friends are transvestites-it's just that I was tired of the scene, tired of having to undress the prissy bastards only to be disappointed by their obvious maleness. And so many of them won't let you touch certain parts ... like especially areas where they've had to try harder to enjoy being a girl. Like where they tape their chest together in order to give the impression of cleavage.... Most of them won't let you touch them there. It's really hard to get a thing going when you have to tiptoe around; pussyfoot, as if you're in a China shop.
"So besides being a tribute to my birthday, I vowed this would be a farewell party to my drag friends ... a vow which I've lived up to incidentally. I hadn't met Vince by this time, so I was really cutting myself off. But I just couldn't picture myself growing old with this crowd. Especially since I had to do the pushing with them .... I had to give in to my real feelings. I wanted to take it in the ass myself.
"I suppose the drag bit was just my way of procrastinating, of easing my way into the gay world from straight society. I actually thought I was straight until I was twenty-five ... despite what my repeated failure with girls kept telling me. Oh, I performed admirably upon occasion, but that was the exception to the rule----I usually failed miserably. Upon these failures I would immediately rationalize the trouble away, blaming it on the girl. I never knew the real nature of my curious self until I picked up a drag queen in a bar in New York one night. I had no idea the she I thought I was getting was a male. Otherwise I wouldn't have had anything to do with it. But once we got to my room ... played the seduction game ... well, there was a cock there between her ... its ... his legs. It probably would have blown my mind an hour before ... but I was so sexed up that for some reason it only drove me on to perform in a manner I had never thought myself capable of. I really had been fooled by this ... had really thought this blond beauty to be a girl. You know it's an amazing thing the way some drag queens look. Many of them are better at being women than most women I knew.
"Needless to say, the event reshaped my life. I decided to burn the bridges, pulled up stakes and moved to San Francisco. But it was a couple, three years before I really got into the high drag society. And now after a few years of it I'd had enough.
"I now realized that it was I who wanted to take the feminine role, that I had just been cushioning my sensibilities from the shock that I was gay. And I was a passive gay.... I really wanted the cock I was shoving up some drag queen's ass to be put up mine.
"Not that I had the slightest desire to dress up in women's clothing myself ... not my bag. For me it would have been ludicrous anyway. I'd sure have to invest in some electrolysis to zap my beard for a starter. No I just enjoy the passive role, and with these people there just could be no way.
"But just for old times' sake, I paired off with Artie, or I should say 'Ann' as he-she likes to be known, and headed for my bedroom as the festivities were breaking up. On the street it'd be impossible to tell the difference between Artie and a girl. In fact he must get lots of looks by men thinking he's a girl... a real good-looker. Artie has the key features of femininity to start out with ... it'd probably have worked out better for him in the long run if he'd have been born a girl. He has a delicate face, high cheekbones that set off the deepest, most gorgeous eyes you've ever seen. He helps add to the mirage by careful use of makeup, eye liner, false eyelashes, lipstick, a wig ... one of several styles he owns. I can attest to the fact that most classy drag queens I know have better taste when it comes to cosmetics than most women I know.
"Artie also has an advantage over some of the less fortunate queens in that he is a very small man, maybe 5'6" in his stocking feet, with a small, slender frame that couldn't weigh more than 130 or so. What with shaving his legs, some tape, a little padding and he's in business ... outclassing even the best hookers I ever saw on Broadway. That ebony body of his attracts more construction workers than even John Lindsay. Fortunately for Artie, this is California, and so far the construction workers out here have been less physical in their demands than their eastern brothers. Man, if one of those guys ever picked up Artie and got him shucked down for the goodies, would he ever be surprised ... probably pissed, too.
"So this was to be farewell to Artie ... no big emotional thing, though. Drag queens are too hung on themselves to really form a deep relationship with anyone anyway. Oh, they can pre- tend-oh, can they ever. But mainly they are very fickle ... cattier than most women, so it just won't do to get hung on one. My relationship with Artie was strictly physical, as it was with the rest of them.
"With Artie, and many of my other drag friends, it was a session where his clothes remained on. It takes away from the skin-to-skin contact that can be so stimulating, but from a fetishistic standpoint it adds to the illusion, the desired effect being that you are supposed to believe you are performing with a woman. If the queens peeled off their garments the illusion would be rudely shattered.
"So Artie remained fully clothed-looking positively alluring in his yellow minidress. It contrasts so well with his dark skin ... my own personal favorite. He went to his knees the moment we entered the bedroom, intent on going after my cock, size queen that he is. I've got a fairly large one and the guys like Artie who are hung on such things go really Crazy for it. But as long as this was to be the last, I wanted it my way ... didn't feel like being eaten. I wanted a quickie ... wanted my cock in something a little more substantial than a mouth. Like his ass.
"He got a little bitchy when I told him that it was going to be a quickie, but I reminded him that there were plenty of other girls outside and that I could just as soon go get one of them. He reluctantly complied with my wishes, bending over the back of a large chair so that his buttocks were thrust up in the air, just the right angle for my cock.
"I was reminded of the reason why I had chosen Artie as I raised his dress and bunched it up on his back before slipping my fingers into the waistband of his wispy black panties and tugged them down, revealing a nice tight little ass ... like two black apples. He had the best behind of the bunch, his hips actually flaring out nearly as much as a woman's. Even though I was determined to concentrate on being the receptor on my future meetings, I wanted to preserve the illusion of balling a woman as long as I was still delving into the drag bag, so to speak.
"From a table next to the chair, I took my tube of KY jelly and greased my cock with it, pulling at it in a masturbatory motion to stiffen it for the task at hand. Then, without further ceremony, I placed my hands on the black hips, securing my victim, then pressed the head of my cock against his asshole.
"I didn't use my hand to guide it in, knowing that a few hard prods would make the tight ring of his anus begin to give. I really had to shove hard though, my shaft almost bending in two on a couple of thrusts, but finally the opening gave, allowing me to thrust in about three inches, my cock throbbing as it felt the mush of his tissues.
"Artie gave out a little gasp as I sunk my rod deeper into his ass, rending the tissues under my assault. I didn't move though-get into the regular in and out motion--just sank my cock to the base and let it stay put, throbbing against his prostate, driving him mad with the anticipation of wondering just when I'd start.
"Finally I did, pulling out slowly, almost to the very tip of my cock, then slammed in with all my might, my balls clapping mightily against his hard butt at the end of my long stroke. I wasn't going to fool around. Every stroke was faster than the one before, building our passions at an incredible rate. When I say quickie I mean it. I can last a long time if I want to, but the territory was so well covered from my point of view, becoming so mundane, that I wanted to satisfy my own lusts and get the hell out. To hell with anyone else, the way they felt. Of course, all that's changed since I fell for Vince.
"I just pumped away in that mushy ass of his as fast as my cock would take me, gripping his sides with cruel strength, using him like a receptacle for my waste. I could feel a tight hotness in my balls, as my jizz began to brew, readying for the expulsion. Sensing that I was near completion, I threw everything I had behind the next few strokes, really bruising that prostate of his, causing him to squirm with ecstasy. Just a couple more....
"Wham, thank you ma'am ... er sir. I was spilling my seed deep in his rectum, causing him to call out my name in his ecstasy. Or what he thought was my name. He thought I was Rudy. One of the things that pisses me off about these fickle fuckers. My name's not Rudy, it's Walter. I'm a cocksucker, work the South Bay beat .... "Anyway I came for the last time in a drag queen's ass. And I wasn't even savoring the situation that much. Enough ... it wasn't exactly all work, otherwise I'd never be able to get it up to do the job. There has to be some pleasure, somewhere when you come. It just didn't seem like enough to me, like I was missing out on something. And was I ever right. It took a real man like Vince to bring it out of me. And did he ever!"
Even though homosexuals are generally thought to be hung-up in the oral stage of development, there are many who are anally oriented such as Walter. Walter has a distinct advantage over many of his fellow gays, however, in the fact that he has a good understanding of his peculiarities, and has adjusted fairly well to the neurosis, for that is what homosexuality is. Not that it's that different from anyone living in this society-it's normal to be neurotic.
Both orality and anality have their biggest stronghold in the world of the homosexual. Anality is especially predominant among male homosexuals. They are forced to find alternatives for their obvious lack of a vaginal orifice. There is increasing evidence that many homosexuals, like so many sado-masochists, have been retarded in the anal stage of development Freud talked so much about.
It is unusual to find a homosexual who is so aware of his psychosomatic development, but perhaps because Walter was able to see the development so slowly, by degrees, he was better able to adapt to it than most. Since his affairs with the transvestites, he has found happiness with another man by the name of Vince. Here he was able to learn more about tactile, direct stimulation, and found it to be much more satisfactory than the more fetishistic mental state he previously became enmeshed in. Now he tends not to rationalize his behavior so much as formerly.
Homosexuality is fairly widespread among our society, with estimates being as high as 15-20% of the adult male population. Kinsey was careful to show differentiation between the practicing, almost exclusively homosexual man, and the many men who might have dabbled with it in their adolescence or, perhaps out of either curiosity or lack of available women, later on in their adult lives. He has a rating scale of one to six by which he classified men as being either strongly overt in their desires for homosexual contact, or less so, by gradual gradation until we reach the heterosexual category.
Kinsey's scale of heterosexual-homosexual factors as found in the male: 0-Exclusively heterosexual. 1-Predominantly heterosexual, only incidentally homosexual.
2-Predominantly heterosexual, but more than incidentally homosexual.
3-Equally heterosexual and homosexual (often referred to as bisexual, although the classification is not entirely generically correct).
4-Predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual. 5-Predominantly homosexual, but incidentally heterosexual. 6-Exclusively homosexual.
Because of the new abundance of information, and the militant organizations in the homophile community, homosexuality is now becoming more tolerated by society as a whole, even though there are those who openly show contempt for them. Traditionally, male homosexuals have had a much harder go of it than their sister lesbians, primarily due to the fact that men have always been cast in the role of aggressor in the functioning of society. Therefore a male who exhibits behavior that is deviant is thought of as being more a threat to the cogs of that society, while a woman who prefers other women was not considered a detriment to the natural flow and function of the system. Gradually, this attitude is giving way to a more liberal viewpoint that allows free sexual expression between consenting adults. Unfortunately, the laws are dragging far behind the enlightenment of the public.
Homosexuality is an acquired trait, despite the fact that many homosexuals themselves prefer to rationalize that they were born that way. It oftentimes develops as a result of a son's strong attachment to his mother-what Freud labels the Oedipus Complex, although all those males falling under the spell of this syndrome need not be homosexuals. A male child may well develop feminine traits because he identifies with his mother or sister and imitates them. Parents sometimes encourage such behavior, inverted identification with the opposite sex, not realizing the tragic possibilities. Many mothers are over-protective of their male children, making them into sissified "mama's boys." Often a basic feeling of inferiority is fostered by a mother who means well but sets off a trend of homosexuality that appears in his late adolescence or adult life.
There is a residue of the abnormal in all of us. If the libido reaches its highest goal of development, heterosexuality, then the individual may be regarded as "normal." However, if for various psychological reasons, the sexual instinct fails to mature properly, the person is more apt to seek a sexual gratification in keeping with his immature sexual development. For this reason the majority of psychiatrists consider homosexuals to be, by and large, neurotic. Of course there are those who find nothing wrong with such behavior. It all depends upon the ideas, and perhaps sexual tastes, of the psychiatrist.
These emotionally deprived individuals tend to view the opposite sex with fear. They are considered abnormal only in the sense that their sexual behavior represents a regression to childhood, an escape from the biological responsibilities assumed by heterosexual adults. In other aspects of their lives, such as their jobs, hobbies, etc. many homosexuals seem to be 'straighter' than the next guy.
Homosexuals tend to be quite narcissistic, and their gratifications seem best accomplished by onanistic means, where the sex partner is viewed merely as an object through which to achieve satisfaction, much like other fetishists such as sadomasochists. Their own pleasures must come first, irrespective of what others think about their conduct. Many have no scruples when it comes to their needs; these are the small minority who give the rest of the homophile population a bad name by such acts as seducing adolescents. An analysis of their methodology reveals their love for child's play, their liking for dressing differently, mimicking the opposite sex, and indulging in emotional tantrums. In groups, some analysts insist, they are prone to manifest symptoms characteristic of a neurotic child. Analysts refer to such behavior as "psychosexual infantilism." Many homosexuals have never been psychologically weaned from the bottle or nipple, hence the strong oral fixation. Still others encountered difficulty with toilet training and have strong anal fixations.
Such a fixation has Walter, even though he was into his thirties before he gave in to the desire. Many individuals fight to suppress such tendencies once they are aware of their presence. Not so with Walter. He sought; to adjust as best he could to the situation, especially once he settled with his latest lover, Vince. He tries as best he can to make his relationship seem normal, although there are some drawbacks, as he tells us here in his own words: "Having once again scuttled my life, I moved to Los Angeles to start again. I vowed to stay away from the dragstrip crowd of Hollywood Boulevard and kept my lights off and my doors locked on Halloween. I found a job almost immediately-no problem, since I am one of the best interior decorators in the business, even if I do say so myself.
"But I wasn't to really achieve the happiness I wanted, despite the fact that I was satisfied with my job, my new home and all, until I met Vince last year. Since then I haven't really come down. Life's been a dream since then.
"Of course, without benefit of matrimony (and that's really no defense these days) I have no way of insuring the fact that we will remain together throughout our lives, and there is always that fear in the back of my mind that he may leave me some day. After all, he's seven years younger, and such a handsome dog. But he's taught me how to throw away all the labels, all the fears that kept me from really enjoying my homosexual experiences to the fullest in the past. I now know that I can achieve great physical sensation with anyone I have real feelings for, if I just let myself relax and go with the natural flow of the body. But I'm sure the dimension of love adds a lot to the appreciation of orgasm, and I would have a great void in my life to fill if he left me. But I'm sure I could find someone else later ... time is a great healer. For now, I have to try and bury such thoughts and just enjoy the wonderful world of 'now' with my sweet Vince. "He's so strong!
"I met him at an auto race ... one of my old friends from New York races autos-not really driving them ... he hires drivers for his cars. And Vince was doing a photo story on my friend when we were out at the track that day. Vince is a photographer. A strong photographer.
"After my day at the races I was invited to join my old friend Phil and his party for dinner at the Blank Blank. Phil was one of the few old friends that I'd kept from my New York days, and I'd told him about my homosexual diversions even before I'd left. He's queer, too ... only for women unfortunately. Imagine, only a year older than me and he's been married three times already. He's fortunate that his father left him with a cool nine million, otherwise he'd never be able to afford the alimony.
"His current wife, a young silly thing, was as pretty as they come, and as empty as a parking lot at two in the morning ... window dressing. That's Phil-all show. I don't think she was a day over nineteen. But all the men in his party, some racing tycoons and old friends, just couldn't keep their eyes off her. My eyes were captured by something I considered much more attractive.
"And his eyes were looking me over pretty well too.
"Just one of those moments that is difficult to describe, but Vince and I just clicked the instant we'd met. I hadn't had a chance to see him up close at the track. When I was down in the pits, he'd been away getting some shots of other cars. And from the bleachers later on, I could barely make out the cars, as they spun around crazily and smokily, much less tell who was who down in the pits from that distance. But that night I was overwhelmed at this man.... I'd never seen such a guy.
"Just gorgeous-that's the only way I know how to describe him! About 6'2", eyes of blue ... steel blue that can gaze right through me sometimes. He's got the build of a fighter with the manners of a well-heeled gentleman. That's a rare combination in this day and age. Golden blond hair like the guys in the movies but no one in real life has ... right? Just knocked me off my feet.
"He was hip to the scene-gay, that is, from the way he was looking at me. We found a way for both of us to be excused so we could feel each other out, verbally of course, in the bar.
Over a scotch and water and a vodka martini, we unfolded our lives in front of each other ... the same old small talk, but maybe a little more to the point since we were checking each other out to see if we could swing later on.
"And did we ever! My place about midnight. I had never experienced total domination the way he was able to put me through-just wild! Not brutal domination-the good, gentle kind. For the first time in my life, I'd felt like I'd been through something meaningful ... didn't feel used or that I had used someone. And I'd never come so hard ... never had been used from the rear the way he used me. I was his for the asking. And the strange thing was, he was asking, so I must have made an equally good impression.
"Anyhow, after a few months of getting together infrequently for weekend 'quickies,' either in New York or L.A., he decided to move his operation out west so we could be together all the time. He was a free lance so it didn't really matter. In fact he'd actually be spending more time on the Coast since most of his recent contacts had been in California. Even before he met me he'd been considering the move.
"He moved right in with me ... we weren't fooling around by this time. We both knew we Were in love and we'd just have to face up to it like any man and his ... man. I had a really big home ... still do ... I'm paying enough for it. But we had more than enough room for the two of us.
"We get along so well, socially and in the sack, that it's really incredible. I can't even remember us ever having had a fight ... nothing serious anyway. I'll give you an idea of our typical love life. I guess what happened last night is as typical as any. Besides, the details would be fresher in my mind than something that happened, say, two months ago. The minute details are minor, they may change from one night to the next to give us some needed variety, but the end results are always the same-checking out A-O.K. in all departments.
"Last night Vince snuck up on me by surprise to get the evening going. I'd gotten home well before him ... he had a late shooting assignment, so I cleaned some vegetables for dinner, made myself a drink, then jumped in the shower for a quick fresher-upper. I didn't expect him for a good hour or hour an a half.
" 'Boo!' He practically scared the shit out of me. He'd come home early and looked for me ... heard the shower, crept in and shouted at me. I was all soaped up, my eyes closed tight ... just relaxed as hell in the steam and sharp needles of the shower when he came out of nowhere with that scary stuff. A person is about as vulnerable as he'll ever be when he's in the shower. I guess we all have that secret dread of being attacked in the shower when we're all naked and defenseless. Hitchcock's Psycho documented it pretty well I think .... So I regain my composure, dropping the soap I was lathering myself with. But this was no time to play 'drop the soap.' You know the bit, the straight cat in a shower in the navy .., scared to bend over and pick up the soap for fear some old timer'll grab him and drive him from behind?
"Anyway, to top it off, just as I was getting over the flash of fear, a numb pain in my foot takes over ... the soap had hit it. I pulled my foot up and grabbed it in pain, almost slipping as I hopped.
"'Bitch!' I screamed at him in my helpless rage ... lashing out more at the circumstances than him.
" 'Well, I was going to apologize ... get in there and make it up to you, but....' " 'Forgiven ... make it up to me!' As I said, we never really fight. My temper outburst was very short-lived. All I needed was the promise of his big hands working on me there in the shower to straighten the situation out.
" 'Don't forget the KY,' I reminded him. The cabinet door slammed just as I said it... he was a step ahead of me.
'"Hand me the brush!' Good thinking. So many times we forget to grease the brush up when we're in the shower ... we discovered it could be a lot of fun way back when. Like he might be giving me head and I want a little extra, so I'll have him ram the handle of the plastic bath brush up my ass. Feels great. But if he's forgotten to lube it up beforehand, and we're in some critical point in our action, it ruins everything to have to stop to go through all that. But I just can't stand them ungreased ... tears me a new asshole every time.
"As my blond Apollo stepped into the shower stall, bath brush in hand, I saw that he had applied a generous smear of the substance to his long, slim cock ... just in case he decided to stick that up my ass instead of the brush. We try not to plan out everything we're going to do when we start a sex session ... that way we go with whatever seems best at the time. A spontaneous session is always groovier, since there may be some nice surprises in store.
"We have a nice big shower stall with plenty of room for both of us. I lately installed a huge water heater, so we can stay in there almost forever, getting all the hot water we want. With the steam we add to the steam that results from the shower, our mirror gets pretty fogged-up, to say the least.
"First off he moved that muscular body close to me, hooked his arms around my waist to pull me close, then planted a wet kiss on my mouth that immediately got my blood flowing. Then he stepped closer to the spray to wet himself down, picked up the soap and began lathering up.
"I can nearly get it off just by watching him as he goes through the movements of any activity, his thick muscles flexing and unflexing throughout his body, wave after wave of rippling, well-coordinated flesh. The deep tan he always wears, split by the sharp band of white where his bikini trunks go, adds to the sculptured effect of his body, makes one think of bronze replicas of Greek and Roman statues. How fitting that homophile lovemaking is referred to as 'Greek' or 'Roman' arts.
" 'Greek' always has the added connotation, to me anyway, of taking it in the ass. And we all know how I feel about that-it's right up my alley!
"Once he was as well lathered as me, we both moved back under the spray to wash it off, aiding the process by rubbing motions of our hands. Only we weren't touching our own bodies. And then more soap ... we go for the more intimate areas, areas that get much cleaner, to our way of thinking, when done by the other member. For instance, I was washing out the crack of his buttocks now, making wonderful squishing sounds with the generous lather I was gooshing through the cleft. I paid special attention to his asshole, making sure it was free of any dingle-berries.
"And now he repaid me in kind, giving me a little extra since he knows that my universe centers around my anal area. He should know ... he's the one that taught me. He ends it all by plunging a pinky partway up... a promise of things to come ... like a preview of coming attractions. He'll wiggle it around a couple of times, just to tease me, before taking it out again and slapping me lightly on the ass as a signal for me to get it under the spray and rinsed off.
"And now we move to the front areas, doing our respective work simultaneously, missing no dirt on the center attraction as the skins are usually stretched taut over erect cocks. We have to be very careful when we do this or we'll come too soon. We've practically precluded the use of washcloths since the roughness against the sensitivity of our cockheads often caused us to ejaculate prematurely.
"But even our hands, testing the hardness of the other's excitability, caused the temperatures to rise ... in turn, of course, affecting the stiffness----Witness the old axiom: 'the heat of the meat determines the angle of the dangle,' or some such sport, I'm told.
"And from there, our personal hygiene was neglected ... we were just about finished up anyway. Our arms snaked around each other's backs, pulling our mouths close until our lips parted for the other's probing tongue. His was like a roadrunner-better yet, a lizard. It flitted throughout my mouth nervously, stopping on a dime to cut a right or left angle as the wriggling tip searched out some new area of my mouth, the ridges on the roof, under my tongue, over the teeth .... "My tongue did its best to contain his faster instrument, but as always he won the battle of the tongues. But then, that was the point... for him to win. Over poor little helpless old me.
"Our hands were slipping and sliding up and down our waterlogged bodies, the steady needles splaying off our shoulders, trickling in little rivulets down our backs and chests. The steam puffed by in a steady flow of patched clouds, adding to the humidity of our torsos as we pressed to one another. The steady hsssssss contained songs only we could hear.
"Now his hands, were kneading steadily at my buttocks, pinching the tender flesh into rippling rolls, bringing a slight, but pleasant, pain to them. His lips broke away from mine, trailing a thin string of transparent saliva, leaving my mouth with a sudden empty feeling. Pulling my own tongue back into its proper place did little to assuage the void left in the wake of his tongue's wet presence. But thoughts concerning that piece of flesh were cut short when it suddenly began licking the ultrasensitive flesh just below the ear.
"I, too, was working my hands over his body, paying special attention to the small of his back which I knew to be one of his most vulnerable spots. I tried to touch it as slightly as possible so as to effect something similar in nature to a tickling sensation, brushing my fingers lightly in a circular motion, skipping quickly from surface to the air just above it. It was pretty tricky to handle it since we were both moving around quite a bit, gyrating, from the thrills we were manipulating to each other's bodies, bracing against each other to keep from slipping to the floor of the slippery shower stall.
"But as our passions grew to greater and greater proportion, our heads swimming dizzily, it became increasingly difficult to maintain one's equilibrium. But Vince had sensed this a split second before me ... he always must, as he leads the action. Suddenly breaking the rhythm we had established, he reached up and pinched one of my nipples sharply as a signal that it was time to get on with more serious matters.
"He slipped down my body, his hands tight around my back for support as he did so, until he was positioned on his knees, prepared for worship at my altar ... or to suck my joint to be more to the point. And Walter does love to have his knob polished. Not as great as a cock in the ass, but then what do you want for free? ... All right, a buck ninety-five or whatever they get for these rags. But, of course, that would come later... at a rectum or asshole nearest me.
"I braced myself by placing my hands on his wide shoulders, balancing my weight between them and my feet. A great shudder shook my body as his curled tongue licked out gently at the soft skin of my lower belly, causing goose pimples to swell around the pores sprouting pubic hairs. I ran one of my hands up to twirl a finger in his golden hair. I squished water through it, giving him a mock shampoo as his mouth brought new fires to my loins, his tongue trailing wet kisses all over my lower belly.
"I massaged his bulging neck muscles, relaxing the strain caused by his rapid lingual movements, pressed my knees into his chest. I was getting quick hot flashes and knew I wouldn't be able to stand much longer ... had to get to the floor before he touched my cock with that mouth of his, otherwise I'd be collapsing.
"And finally I am sliding down his long body ... crumpling upon the floor next to him. He's not missing a beat with his mouth ... like a vacuum ... you can't get it away from your stomach----All wet here at the bottom of the shower ... still can smell feet and shower smells bubbling among the swirling waters that are pooling at the bottom of the stall.
"I adjust myself, try to come close to his own region, twist like a pretzel .... _Now he's getting the idea, laying out on his side. We both curl and tuck our bodies, both on our sides, facing one another. Hard to manipulate ... must scoot so you don't get stuck to the tiles .... Noises like big rubber farts as we bump around, trying to get position on each other's cocks.
"Yes, it's to be sixty-nine ... old reliable. Two can play this game sixty-nine . .. maybe with a bonus for my ass too .... But I see that the bath brush is still lying ignored propped in the corner, water beaded around the handle's greased sheath.
"At least it was within his reach ... maybe surprise me with it later when I'm not expecting it. The left side of my body is stuck to the tiles, my right exposed to the hard rain from the shower ... seeming somehow harder as they have fallen farther. Not as sharp as up close, but heavier. The water that misses us, splats up occasionally, hitting us in the mouth, an eye. We reach for each other ... to the more intimate areas.
"His hot mouth returns to my tummy, having been batted away, kept at bay during our period of readjustment. Now I am landing upon the surface of his stomach, near the navel, my lips cushioning the landing among the suddenly large, golden hairs, the almost p o r e l e s s smoothness of his belly ... a small step for .... "My tongue laps its way down to thicker, darker patches of jungle, until it is entangled with long, curly vines that catch at the teeth. I pull and tug at it, my right hand reaching down around the backs of his thighs, curled like mine, and tucked towards the upper torso to fit the confines of the shower. After a couple of particularly hard pulls which stretch a long strip of white flesh as the roots are pulled taut, he jumps, moaning a short response of approval.
"And then I feel my cock being captured between his lips, feel a sharp jet of air that zings me. Tentatively, I pop his larger shaft into my mouth, sucking just the head past the lips, between the teeth, where I roll it around, taking it about a half circle turn in one direction before the skin becomes too taut, then turning it the other, my chipped tooth at the bottom of my mouth making delightful contact with the tendermost underside of his cockhead, causing even longer moans to echo from his end of the shower stall floor.
"I felt his moans reverberate up and down the length of my shaft and went higher in the head ... higher into my sexual fantasyland ... gave out a long moan in return, making a brief chorus of hum jobs there on the reverberating, wet tiles.
"And now my hands grip hard at his buttocks, pulling myself into one final readjustment ... fixed position for the real show. I feel one hand at my back, another at my cock as he works it. And then I see that one of my hands is holding his cock, positioning it, stabilizing it for my mouth. And here I told you I had both hands on his buttocks. Must have some poor advisors, but at least we caught it before it went to press. My credibility is already showing enough of itself. But I'm sorry about that-it will probably happen again. Just let me make that perfectly clear.
"After rolling around his cock for a while, I take a bit of the shaft part way in my mouth, beginning a gentle sucking motion, alternately sucking and blowing, trying to ease the pressure of my puckered lips just enough on the insuck to suck just a bit more of his cock in. By now I had about two inches inside my mouth, going for another quarter inch on the present suck. Now I had enough to really work with, curling my tongue inside my mouth to lash at the tiny opening in his head, while I continued to suck and draw on the shaft, my hand pumping at the base, bumping bruises into his fat balls with my knuckles as I beat him off.
"He had captured almost all of my cock while I'm doing all this ... fucking his face with my member. He's much better than me when it comes to sucking a cock-no contest. But, of course, there's no complaints from me, as long as I don't hear a peep from him I'm not going to disturb the status quo and spill the applecart.
"Besides the other sounds of the shower, there was now a steady slurp slurp as we chowed down on our respective meals. Fruit salad. I had worked my way down as far as I'd be going ... I choke much past the five-inch mark, and Vince is one hung stud ... good eight and a half inches compared to my five and a half. But I don't complain. Like I've already said, a guy with a short cock stands that much better a chance of getting a complete job done on him, of having his partner take it all the way in his mouth. One guy I knew up in Frisco, he could take a horse's cock in his mouth. In fact, that's how he got his name ... Tony the Pony worked out on ponies. I mean, you don't expect him to be able to take one of these two-foot cocks of a full-grown horse in his mouth do you? He was able to control his gag reflexes, something I've never been able to master, so that he could stuff about a foot of cock down. I've got no idea how he did it, but I've seen him with my own eyes. And horse's cocks are fat too, have a large circumference.
I'd die, I'm sure!
"I was doing the best job I could, though. At least I seemed to be satisfying my Vince ... 'cause the next sound I heard made my heart go all pitty-pat in anticipation. He was going to reward me. Not missing a trick with his mouth, still pumping his pursed lips up and down my cock, his cheeks swollen from being so stuffed, he had fumbled around in the corner for the bath brush. I heard a clunk as he accidentally knocked it over ... hoped he hadn't knocked it from his grasp. Then I breathed a big sigh of relief as I heard him retrieve it. I felt the muscles in his lean body ripple as he .brought the brush over his head, destined for my asshole. The aforementioned object of the proposition was puckering and spitting in anticipation of the long-handled bath brush. Its past relationship with the brush had been fantastic, and it had no reason to expect anything less this time.
"I tried to work my ass positioning so that my cheeks were spread wide, but couldn't move too much since his mouth had such a clamp on my cock. It didn't matter since I was already sufficiently spread, aided by his massive hand that forced my cleft even wider apart.
"I jumped a bit when I felt the sharp point pierce my sphincter, causing Vince to involuntarily bite my cock ... only adding to my immense enjoyment of the situation. With a sharp slap, that echoed like a gunshot against the shower walls, reverberating against my ears, he warned me to hold still ... that the best was yet to come. But I really didn't need that reminder ... the time was here. The time is here.
"The initial burning passes as the tissues grow accustomed to the instrument of pleasure, rending its way up the shit-trail to blaze a path of delight to my guts. I feel tight and stuffed ... like too much pressure is building and I know that something will eventually have to give ... to explode from me to relieve the buildup.
That would be my come I'm referring to.
But I didn't want the delicious pressure to go too quickly, wanted to savor as much as I could stand, force myself to the breaking point before letting fly with my hot load of spunk. Or jizz, if you prefer. Or just plain come. The name doesn't matter. Cocksuckers for years have known that it's not how you say it, but how you suck it that counts. And Walter's Come has been known to the country's top cocksuckers for years as being a terrific blend of nature's choicest products, heated individually for you right before you eat it. Pick up a mouthful soon at the Walter nearest to you. You won't be sorry, folks, and you'll know why cocksuckers all over this country have been saying for years: 'If it's a Walter's, you'll eat it rawly.' Yes, friends, Sir Walter ... rawly. You'll never forgive yourself. But you can't have much of a sense of shame if you'll listen to crap like that.
"The preceding was a paid announcement from the Suck-A-Cock-For-Lunch Bunch ... no calories. And best of all... no babies!
"I wouldn't hold on long now. Disregarding any possible injury, I was bumping around like crazy. It felt like I was being sawed in half ... like a long, hot rope was being pulled through my guts like a large piece of dental floss. Back and forth, one end being pulled from my asshole, the other end coming out the tip of my cock.
"But Vince didn't let me off easy, he kept pumping with his sucking mouth; prodding with his pushing bath brush. I felt like I was being bruised in the prostrate, a dull ache began to engulf the entire middle of my body. I tried as best I could to concentrate on the cock I was sucking, but it was impossible to stay on one subject too long. I was being attacked on all fronts and loving every second of it. But it wouldn't last for long.
"Clutching his buttocks hard, I bobbed my head double time, hoping to bring his own orgasm in repayment for the way he'd brought me to the brink. He helped, jerking his hips clumsily, as best he could as he sometimes threw off the rhythm by sticking to the tiles, fucking my face fast and hard as we both made a run for the wire.
My guts were going through all sorts of contortions, controlled by his will, not mine. Everything began to swirl, and individual stimulus began to blank out, fading under the rising power of a total feeling that was sweeping me away from the world.
"The shower, the bath brush, our clamped bodies, our mouths filled with cock ... all combined to lift me in a brief flight away from the realities, swept me into one surreal whole that could never be explained. At the end, there was a moment when everything seemed to come together, flashed and built as I soared, then overflowed its boundaries, taking me with it, lightheaded as I crashed back.
"Slowly reality began to come back to me- the sharp sensations in my throbbing ass, the hot bullets of spunk from Vince's cock that were exploding in my face. And all I could do was lie there passively and accept it, as my own offering poured into his drooling mouth.
"Later on, after dinner, he took me again, just before we crawled into our big king-size bed. (Vince calls it queen-size in reference to me, but it is definitely bigger than that, let me make it clear.) He had me bend naked over the bed, my hands placed out on the mattress, my feet spread behind me, while he placed his big hands on my hips and stuffed my ass full of his big cock.
"No matter how good that bath brush feels, his cock always feels much better, probably because it feels so much more warm and human to me. He can really control the way he throws that cock around, pushing it in and out fast for a while, making my passageway hot and raw, then slowing down to a standstill, until my flesh moves slowly around it... so quiet that I can feel his heartbeat as it throbs to his cock, pounding on the tissues I have surrounded it with. And then he's away again, pumping his way out of my enslavement of his cock, punishing the tissues for daring to try such a thing.
"And finally he shoots a hot load of come up my rectum, filling me to the brim and touching off my own sperm that flies uncontrolled all over the bedspread ... our cleaning bill you just wouldn't believe! And then its beddy-bye, snuggled in his arms. As you can imagine, I never have trouble sleeping after a night like that. The best cure for insomnia is a good night's sleep anytime."