For many years, most of my circulating years, I resisted getting fucked,
actually
feared it, after all, the few times I let some asshole go up my ass they did it
in such a half assed fast thrust kind of way that it didn't do me any good.
Well, for a long time now the desire -- actually the need to get fucked has
increased and increased to a degree that it became an obsession. I guess my
puritanical approach in the beginning is what spared me from G.C. -- And aids.
But now, now, when the timing is really bad, the urge has become an absolute
need, to the point of total and absolute queerness [that's the only word I can
fit the feeling with].
There was an ad in a magazine looking for a dildo slave. Hesitantly but hungry
and yearning I deliberated over this to the point of exhaustion [exhaustion of
my
defenses] and finally decided that if I was going to answer this add, I'd better
be prepared. Determined and following my natural instincts I broke down, went
out, and got my hands on some interesting toys. Starting from point zero, I took
to this methodically and began small. Horrified at the prospects, as time went
on bigger became better, not that the fear went away, but the need to get more
in
there just grew and grew. It's in my nature anyway to get into things in a big
way, and the day came that I broke my first boundary and as if giving birth
increased my asshole diameter remarkably.
But what was a hot man like me doing this alone for. Not that mirrors, ritual
and fantasy aren't exciting, but I needed someone else's hand manipulating these
joy sticks. So -- not really knowing what kind of hand I would find I wrote this
guy, explaining my situation and my progress. Much to my dismay, he called, and
I shook. What's worse, is he liked queers, and the more queer I got on the
phone, the more excited he became. But I said no [I was afraid].
And he called again, very discretely keeping tabs on me and my progress, talking
to me and cooing me in a queer dominant fashion that just made me regress into
an
absolute idiot queer faggot [that I yearned to be].
It made me work harder.
And he called again.
And again.
And each time I shook.
Until one day I called him back.
His machine answered the phone.
Boy was I glad [and disappointed].
But I was so determined that I worked hard on my ass, and lit a candle. I set
this candle before the phone and fell asleep thinking about him stretching me
out, relating to me like the queer that I am and being turned on by it.
Well lo and behold, I was awakened with the telephone [at that time I lived
alone, and gave out my number], and he said he wanted to stretch out my hole.
How could I say no, how could I fucking say no!
Too late, too much work, even a ritual, and then he calls -- how could I say no.
So I hop in my car, dd's and all, park in Manhattan, fearful but determined I
slug down a beer in the street that I got from a deli not far from the phone he
told me to call him from.
I call, no discussion, just the address where to go.
Shit -- this is it.
I go.
There he is, not bad looking, I thought, nervous about what he thought of me.
Well, obviously he was impressed, after all there was no look of disgust, other
than that of looking upon a queer who wants, actually wants his butt worked on.
I quietly followed him up the stairs, took a beer he offered, while not one word
was spoken. Suddenly the urge hit me, and I opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue
and grunted like a fucking animal. He answered me by doing the same, and led me
to the bedroom.
We talked about nonsense for a few minutes, and I realized he was getting
impatient. So I shut my mouth, and he said "show me what's in your bag". I
nervously took out each of my toys, much to his approval, and then he said "show
me what you've got". So I hesitantly opened my pants and let them drop exposing
my jock strap covered meat, turned around and lustfully, mindlessly bent over.
He
told me to spread my cheeks, which I did, and then directed me over to the bed,
while he remained sitting across the room, smoking a cigarette, drinking his
beer. He told me to get on the bed and stick out my ass, which I did, and then
he told me to drink some of my beer and ...
Well, he came over, talking to me queer, getting me to admit that I was a
faggot,
telling me how much he liked faggots and big sloppy assholes, meantime massaging
my asshole. Real nice, good touch and real dirt came from his mouth. I couldn't
stand it, this was it, how could I resist? So things became progressive, and we
worked quickly to the largest toy I had [which to him was probably nothing]. He
insisted at that point on sticking with the largest, which bothered me a little,
but who was I to complain.
I'll never forget this, because he taught me so much. He taught me to push. He
would take it out and say "push, push harder, push faggot", and I felt like my
gut was coming out of my body. My reward was getting something stuck up there
while I was pushing, and then, then, the ultimate happiness, his fingers. Well,
he didn't feel I was loose enough to take the fist. And I was left definitely
yearning. And I'll tell you -- nothing pleased me more than when I saw how
excited he got as I mentally regressed telling him what a fucking queer whore I
was.
This lasted a few hours. I was exhausted, and he wanted me to go on. But I just
"couldn't." Too bad, if I were to do it again I would have gone on and let him
be the judge of that. So he politely asked me if I would mind if he jerked off.
I said no, if he didn't mind my jerking off. So there we both were, in our jock
straps with rods hanging out, smoking cigarettes, sitting on the floor across
from each other. We inched closer to each other and held each other with our
free arms, caressing each other with our bodies him telling me what a queer I
was, and how much he wanted to share me with his friends. We both came. It was
great. I got dressed and left. He wanted me to put an add in a straight paper
looking for another top so we could have a threesome, and I could tell him
stories about my encounters. Strangely enough, he never wanted to get together
after that. But now, whenever I shower or ... I push, and I see that my hole is
much bigger than it ever was, and I'm permanently stretched out ... And in my
perversity, I thank him.
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