A straight guy discusses why and how he he gets his biggest thrills.
I know I’m straight, always have been. I fell in unrequited love with my beat friend’s sister when I was 12 so that was me sorted. What sort of unsorted me was an older boy at school teaching me the rudiments of masturbation. His name was Donald. I don’t know if he was gay or just sex mad but his was the first erect penis I ever saw or touched. It impressed and fascinated me; the alian feel of it in my fumbling little boy’s hand. I wanked him and he wanked me to erection and orgasm but since that was as far as I allowed things to go, my masturbating mentor soon lost interest in me because he wanted more. Still, I excited him for a while and I enjoyed that, but what I enjoyed more was the unnaturalness of it. If our wet Sunday afternoons spent in a run down toilet in our local park taught me anything, it’s that perversion makes normal sex seem dull by comparison and so as I passed through my teenage years, I developed my taste for perversion. I knew this was naughty but the thrill of naughtiness lent an extra spice to my otherwise normal sexual development and I became addicted to it. I dated girls, fondled them and looked to go further but this, though exciting enough, didn’t give me that dark, cold, heart thumping against the rib cage excitement that venturing outside of legal and moral laws gave me.
This resulted in me developing a double life; part of which had me having a conventional teenage sex life whilst the other part had me hanging around public toilets in the perverted hope that some older man might want to indulge in a little cock fun with me. In this, I was seldom disappointed but there were other perversions I pursued.
At the age of 15, I was seducing and molesting girls between the ages of 10 and 13. At that time, I wasn’t raping them but only premature ejaculation was saving them from that. Any contact my cock had with a girl’s warm flesh was enough to send me into orgasm. Some preteen girls were up for it if course, but the problem with that is that I was never in total control of what was happening with them. This smacked of relationship and a relationship was not what I was after; just the sexual experience. Some squealed, screamed and struggled. These, I quickly ravished with my hands whilst relishing the power I had over my girly victims. Those who kept quiet and compliant out of fear, I took my time with. Clothing was rearranged, flesh was exposed, maulings were committed and spermatozoa she’d on soft, warm, smooth, trembling virgin skin. Then I ran away. Naturally, I made sure none of this was occurring on my own doorstep. I travelled to other towns in order to hunt down victims. I speak of a time before mobile phones and DNA was in its infancy in terms of use in criminal trials. Therefore, I considered that there was always a danger, which incidently only seemed to add to the fun; there was also a fair chance I’d get away with it and as luck would have it, I did.
There was one thing however that wasn’t happening and this began to haunt me. All the males I was being naughty with were older than me. I wanted to be Donald for a change and know the thrill of corrupting a boy younger than myself. By now, I’d left school and so was denied the opportunities for making contact that Donald had had. But then I got lucky. Some lads were larking around in a pub carpark. It was clear they’d somehow gained access to alcohol. Someone inside the pub was probably supplying them. However, one of the guys appeared to be missing out. He wasn’t as rowdy as the rest and was definitely sober. Was this by choice? I took a chance and as I was nonchalantly ambling past him, said “aren’t they letting you have any?” He looked at me, I looked at him, winked and nodded in the direction of the pub. Her understood and nodded with a sad expression on his face. “Would you like some?” Another nod from him. “Go round to the other side of the pub and wait. I’ll meet you there and we’ll share a bottle. Yes?” Yet another nod from him and the deal was done. I went into the bar and bought a bottle of sweet sherry to take out. I then rejoined the boy and took him to the same park Donald used to take me. On the way, we swigged from the bottle and talked. I learned that his name was Simon, he’d just turned 14, didn’t like rsp or spinach but did like sweet sherry.
“Do you like wanking?” There was a pause before he answered but the booze was having the desired effect on him in that his natural inhibitions were melting away. We were in the park by now and as dusk was drawing in, it was largely deserted. Simon stumbled and I caught him to prevent him falling. We laughed and blamed the booze, but I kept my arm around him because I knew I had him now. He didn’t object to my having my arm around his waist or my guiding him towards the toilets. I said I needed a piss just to keep him sweet. We got inside and went to the urinal. Out of habit, he got his flaccid cock out. I got mine out to but it was far from flaccid. It was fast engorged, sticking proudly out and bobbing in the cool evening air. I saw Simon staring at it like I must have stared at Donald’s. What could I say?
“Whoops! I clearly need a wank. Will you join me?”
With that, I began to masturbated myself in the most sensuous manner I knew how. To my joyful relief, Simon started playing with himself and got an erection out of his smoothly youthful circumcised penis. I whispered the suggestion that we masturbated each other and now fully aroused, this was acceptable to him. His touch was fantastic but I needed more. I asked if he’d ever wanked a man before. He said yes, his teacher. BUM! I wasn’t corrupting him, somebody else had got there first. But this suggested new opportunities so I ask, “does he bugger you?”
Given the reply “not all the time,” I just had to ask,
“May I bugger you?”
“Only if I can get a load of saliva on your cock for lubrication.”
I hoped he’d suck me but instead, he just dribbled on me and spread his slime with eager fingers. I got him into a cubicle and locked the door while he dropped his trousers and pants. His arse was so white and hairless, warm and smooth, it looked temptingly feminine and I gave in to temptation. Steering the tip of my shaft to his spinctre, I pressed the glistening end into him and kept going until he totally engulfed me. His bowel closed in on me and I just had to hump him. I grunted and he whined like an anxious puppy. I was fucking a kid. This was ultra naughty and I was in my element. I had my arms tight around him pulling him onto me as I lunged. Orgasm came quickly. He squirmed as I came which made it feel even more special. Then…..exquisite peace came upon me whilst my soerm fertilised his turds. For his reward, I sat in the toilet seat, had him stand in front of me while I sucked him off. He said thank you for having me. I said “think nothing of it. Thank you for coming!”
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