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  • — When I Was a Kid —
    Bi-Sexual Male / 51

    I was a sexually conflicted teenager. Beginning in junior high, I began having homosexual urgings that given my upbringing, I felt that I had to repress. And I did repress them by not acting them out, but they were always there, lurking in the shadows of my consciousness, occasionally popping up in my masturbatory sexual fantasies, but I continued living in denial. I graduated from high school and began attending college at one of the Big Ten schools. I ended up rooming with a couple of guys from out of state. Jake was a math nerd, while Steve was an engineering student. I was taking a variety of liberal arts classes with a steady eye on teaching literature. Jake was thin and wiry. he wore glasses and loved to run. Steve was broad shouldered and well built. He was tall and strong. Neither one talked that much, and evenings in our dorm room were generally pretty quiet. We would eat dinner together and then return to the room to study. Pretty much a boring existence.

    None of us had a girlfriend, and none of us felt like we would ever get a girlfriend. The girls liked the cool guys, not guys like us. And when we would stumble upon a girl, we would always get tongue-tied, and nothing ever materialized. I mean, here we were, three healthy, if not particularly good-looking guys, horny as hell, and none of us had ever gotten to first base with a girl, let alone scored. We would sit on the sidelines at dances, afraid to ask a girl to dance, which is probably a good thing, as none of us had the faintest clue as to how to dance. We didn't have pick-up lines. We had no moves. We were, in a word, losers.

    So here are three teenage guys, bursting with testosterone, teeming with sexual desire, without any real outlet. Well, I shouldn't say no outlet, as we were all gifted at beating off, which we would do at night, whenever we thought the other two were asleep. We had intimate knowledge of our respective dominant hands, and we would beat our meats and stifle any orgiastic sounds so as not to wake up the other two, splattering Kleenex with the creamy fruit of our labors. Yeah, there were a lot of sticky wet wads of Kleenex in and around our beds, although Steve preferred using an old sweat sock, which by midterm was so caked in cum that it had become stiff.

    And there it all would likely have remained except for a night the memories of which are still a bit foggy for me. Steve had gone home for the weekend, leaving Jake and me in the room alone. We had attended a dorm-wide dance down in the lunchroom, where each of us sat by the nearest wall and failed to ask any of the girls to dance, or even say more than a few words to them. The punch was spiked with lots of vodka, and not having anything better to do, and neither of us liking the taste of beer, we really put a hit on the punch, and by night's end, we kind of weaved our way back to the room, stinking drunk and horny.

    Jake fell over trying to remove his jeans, and both of us bus out laughing. I had a helluva time unbuttoning my shirt and ended up just pulling it over my head. Soon we had stripped and were sitting there naked, commiserating over being such losers with the girls. The showers were communal and about 40 yards down from our room, and neither one of us relished the idea of making it down there. Jake slept on the upper berth of a bunk bed which he shared with Steve and I slept on a single bed.

    As Jake wormed his way to his bed, he tripped over my foot and came up off the floor pissed, probably because I was laughing at him. He lunged at me and we began wrestling, both of us drunk on our respective asses and naked as the day we were born. For a little guy he was difficult to ward off, and he wouldn't give up. Pretty soon we were rolling around on the floor, our arms seeking out headlocks, our hands grappling seeking traction, our legs entwined, our groins rubbing against each other. I could feel his erect cock pushing against mine, and the forbidden sexual fantasies that I'd had regarding both Steve and Jake came back to me, and along with the friction between our penises, those fantasies resulted in my cock stiffening until we were both fully erect and sweating. I finally got the edge and pushed him back on his back, using my greater weight and my superior strength to counteract his wiry resolve. He kept trying to push me off of him, but I pinned him down using my right forearm like a bar to keep him on his back, wriggling. I had an overwhelming desire to suck his cock and fulfill those dark fantasies that had haunted me since junior high. I reached down with my left hand and grasped his cock and began pulling on it, and suddenly Jake's body went limp, as if the fight was over, but then there was nothing limp about his cock, which though smaller than mine, was harder than ever and pointing straight up against his taut belly.

    I worked my way down his sweaty body until I had reached his hairy cock and balls. I opened my lips and then closed them around his erection and began sucking his cock, an act that I'd performed countless times in my fantasy, but finally for the first time in the heat of our dark dorm room. He gasped as I sucked him, and then began moaning and groaning. After a few moments of my oral efforts, my mouth filled with the salty musk of his crazy seed, and then all I could hear was our heavy breathing as we lay there on the dorm room floor, my mouth filled with his cum. I don't know how long we lay there, but the next thing I remember was awaking the following morning, the light streaking in through our windows . The room reeked of male underarm sweat and that unmistakable scent of sex that lingered in the stale air around us. His cock, now flaccid was still in my mouth, his balls lay against my chin, and there was dried cum spilt on my face, my throat and on my chest.

    I pulled my mouth from his cock. The frenzied act of fellatio of the night before had been no dream, no fantasy. I had really sucked my roomie's cock and taken his semen in my mouth. I was mortified by the knowledge of what I had done. I could never face Jake or Steve again. I would go to the Student Housing Commission and ask to be placed in another dormitory, and then pray that Jake would not tell anyone of what I had done. The thought of my parents' finding out would be far too much to bear. I literally didn't know what to do. All of those years of fantasizing had never provided me with any basis for dealing with the reality of having performed fellatio on a guy. I feared that my end, as I had known it was at an end, and that I was free flowing in a chaotic universe where there would be no forgiveness for my sins.

    Jake began to stir. He opened his bleary unfocused eyes and I watched him as he was obviously confused as to how he had ended up naked on the floor. When he saw me sitting naked on my bed, his eyes began to focus, and then the memories of what I had done to him seemed to come back to him. I began sputtering something about the fruit punch and how drunk I had been and of course I would ask to be moved to another room, and please could he not tell Steve about what I'd done. Jake stood unsteadily and stepped over to where I was babbling. He asked me to just shut up for a minute and I did, looking up at him, looking at the now semi-hard cock that dangled between his legs, and the way his balls swayed to and fro as he walked. Jake sat on the bed next to me and he said that there was nothing to apologize for, and I stared at him, but before I could say anything, he told me that from what he remembered about my blow job, it had provided him with the best orgasm of his life. He stared at me with a leer on his face that I'd never seen before. "Suck my dick." I looked from his leering face down to his rapidly stiffening cock. "Go ahead, suck it."

    I knelt down at his feet and slipped my mouth over his cock and began sucking his cock. He grunted and grabbed the back of my head and began fucking my mouth. "You love it, don't you? You are a cocksucking faggot." I gagged on the head of his uncut erection as it bounced again the back of my throat but kept sucking it as my eyes teared up. "All this time you've been dreaming of sucking my dick. Well now you'll suck it whenever I want it sucked." And he pulled his cock almost out and shoved it back in up to the hilt, again and again, as I knelt there taking it from him. His cock poisoning deep and deeper until he let out an indistinguishable grunt and exploded in my mouth, the cum spilling down my gullet. "You are a cocksucker and a half." I stared down at my own erection, ashamed at my weakness, at the way my cock had reacted to having sucked him. "Don't look down, faggot. Look up at my cock and balls. That's what you have been dreaming of, haven't you?" He kicked my face with his foot. "haven't you, cocksucker?" I was crying but managed to nod my head. "Say it, cocksucker! Say it!" I looked up at him pleading, but he had no mercy. "Say it." I realized that I was broken, that he had peered deep into the darkness of my heart and he had seen me for the cocksucking faggot that I really was. "Yes," I managed. "I've dreamed of sucking your cock, of tasting your cum." He laughed, "And now that you've tasted it?" I looked up at his cock as it swung to and fro above me. "Now that I've tasted it, I want it even more."

    He was immediately fully hard again, in that way that only a teenager can get hard again and again and again. He stepped over me, "Lick my balls." And I reached up and began licking his hairy balls, tasting the salty sweat and the cum residue there. "You motherfucking cocksucker. You love this shit, don't you?" My mouth was filled with his soft ball sac, so I could only nod.

    He pulled back and I thought he was done with me, but he wasn't. "Get on your bed, faggot." I sat back on the bed. "No, on your belly, faggot. If you love sucking cock this much, maybe you'll love me fucking your ass." But this had never been part of the fantasies. It had always been me sucking dick, not being fucked. "No," I muttered. "No? No? You cocksucking faggot, you have no right to say no to me. I fucking own you and your ass, too. Now get on that bed." Suddenly my muscles had gone slack. I lacked the will to fight him. I was tired. I just wanted it over. I turned over on my stomach, my ass lifted a bit off the bed. "That's the way, you faggot." I could feel his hands grabbing my ass and pulling my butt cheeks apart, and then his index finger being shoved up my rectum, and then the head of his cock pushed up against my anus. No lube, no spit, nothing to ease the way. Add then he pushed it, and worked the head of his cock past the outer rings and then deeper and deeper, the burning pain, excruciating, like a cherry red hot poker being shoved deep inside my rectum. He pulled my hair as he fucked me, and his penile assault became ever more violent, his sweaty balls now slapping against my sweat covered butt, his dick bottoming out inside me, the burning pain seeming to radiate throughout my body, seeing, blinding, incessant. The assault went on and on until the inside of my asshole felt raw and torn and still he fucked me. Just when I thought that it would never end, that he would fuck me like this until the end of time, he finally came and I felt his hot cum shooting deep inside of me and only then did his erection soften and he pulled his penis from my asshole until it exited with a pop.

    I lay there on the bed. My asshole was on fire. I could feel the wet stickiness on the bedsheet underneath my dick and I realized that I had cum from the fucking, and I was even more mortified than I'd been. I could hear Jake rummaging around the room and then the door opening and closing and I realized that he'd gone to take a shower down the hall. I tried to lift myself off of the bed, but I couldn't. When he returned twenty minutes later, I was still laying there, his cum still streaming down my ass, my asshole on fire, feeling raw like hamburger. "Nice sight. The sight of your faggoty ass just waiting to be fucked again." The thought of him re-entering me, was enough to make me get up from the bed. He was staring at my dick, which was flaccid now, but still sticky from having cum. "I can see you liked it, huh? Liked it a lot"

    I couldn't stay in there a minute longer. I had to get out, I didn't know where I could go, but I knew I couldn't stay there in that fetid room. I threw on a robe and limped down to the showers. Walking proved extremely painful as any movement caused my asshole to burn and throb and pulsate. As I washed myself in the shower, I realized that I was bleeding. I tenderly soaped my ass and balls and cock and then the rest of me, the cum and the blood and the sweat washing off of me and swirling round and round the shower drain. I spent a long time there, soaking, feeling the scalding water cleanse my body. And then with effort I dried myself off carefully avoiding my asshole and the fierce fire that still burned there.

    When I got back to the room, Jake had left. I got dressed and then decided that I would go to the church, St. Anthony's, that was down the block from our dorm. I'd only been there a few times that first semester. Without my parents yelling at me to go to church, no longer an altar boy, I had fallen out of the habit of attending church. As I knelt there surrounded by the icons and the holy statues, the air sweetened by the scent of sandalwood incense, I prayed as I'd never prayed before. I prayed for forgiveness, I prayed for mercy, I prayed that God could magically erase the horrors of the previous evening and that morning, wash away the impenetrable taint of the unforgivable sins that I'd committed. There were a few old people at the church, and a few little kids. The priest was short stout gray haired man, with intelligent eyes and a kindly face. As I took my communion wafer from his hand into my open mouth, he blessed me, and he blessed me again as I walked out of the church at the end of the service, again walking gingerly, slowly, painfully.

    The sun was shining and somehow all seemed right in the world, again. As if the world that had spun out of control had suddenly righted itself, and I realized in my heart of hearts that there was mercy, that one could atone for one's sins, and regain the light of God.

    When I opened the door, Jake was sitting on my bed watching a football game on the black and white nine-inch set that I had bought with savings from my summer job washing dishes at a restaurant. I asked him what the score was and he told me it was the Redskins 10 to nothing. I shook my head and I said, "Same old Lions." And it was like perhaps all of it had been a nightmare, a dream. But the burning in my asshole, that was real. I was confused. Would I have to change dorm rooms. Had it happened> And then I watched in horror as his face became a leering smirk and he slowly lowered his zipper, and as he fished his cock out I found myself stepping towards him, and then found myself on my knees my eyes level with his red cock head, and before I could stop myself my lips had enclosed the head of his cock and sucked up and down his cock, Jake's laughter mixing with the sounds of the faint sounds of the Gregorian chants and the fading blessing of the old priest at St. Anthony's. The sun that had shone down upon me could not penetrate the darkness of our room, or the darkness of my soul.

    #39836 — Comments (1) — Mar 30, 2018 at 4:35 PM — That's Juicy! (10) Remove This.
  • 1
    I would like to share a room with you once, maybe you would let me take your place this time around.
    4/3/18




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