In my old age, I enjoy time traveling back to my youth. I was once young, hung and good looking. It must have been in 1959 or ’60 that I set out from the San Francisco Bay area to Mexico on my old Harley Davidson motorcycle.
The Harley broke down on the Santa Monica Pier and I was too broke to buy the parts to fix it. I was befriended by John and Anna, who owned the Venice West Cafe. They fed me delicious hamburgers and all the coffee I could drink.
While hanging out there, I attracted the attention of a very nice older man. He wasn’t all that old, maybe in his early thirties. That seemed old to a boy of seventeen.
John K was a Korean War vet and had a small disability pension from the Army. He and I got to talking and liked each other. When he learned I was broke and homeless, he invited me to share his tiny apartment in one of the crumbling art deco hotels that lined Venice Beach. I gratefully accepted his kind offer.
The apartment was the size of a small hotel room, which is what it actually was. I began to realize my new friend and benefactor might be gay when he said we would share the only bed. Of course, back then the word ‘gay’ wasn’t what we called homosexuals.
In my circle of high school friends, gays were referred to, with great disdain, as ‘homos’ and ‘fags’ or ‘queers’. In that era, homosexual acts were not just seen as shameful but they were illegal as well. Gay men lived with a stigma and most were in the closet, hiding behind a ‘straight’ facade. Gay women were ‘dykes’ and there were so few of them, they almost were nonexistent.
John K didn’t look or act effeminate in any way and my suspicions were allayed. That night we went to bed, John wearing pajama bottoms and, as was my habit, I was nude. I slept soundly as it was the first night in some time that I wasn’t in a sleeping bag on the ground.
Early in the morning I gradually woke from an incredibly erotic dream with the realization my rock-hard, nine-inch erection was in John’s mouth. He was licking and sucking my circumcised shaft and teasing the sensitive tip with his tongue. He was taking the entire length into his throat at times and my cock was gripped by his swallowing muscles.
He would grab my cock with one hand while he sucked my balls and licked my sensitive perineum for a while. GOD, IT FELT GOOD!
My mind was reeling between the wonderful feeling of John’s expert blow job and the shame and guilt I felt. I pretended I was still asleep. It wasn’t long before I came, shooting wad after wad of my teenage cum into John’s mouth.
He swallowed every drop and then tenderly cleaned my shrinking cock with his tongue. After John had finished and gotten out of bed, I pretended to wake up and made no mention of John’s oral service. All that day, as I worked on my motorcycle, my thoughts circled like a whirlpool of conflict.
Did my profound enjoyment of John’s lovemaking mean I was queer? The pretty girls on the beach still looked good to me and the boys didn’t arouse any feelings of desire. I eventually guessed I wasn’t a fag and that having my cock sucked just plain felt good, no matter the sex of the sucker.
In bed that night I could no longer maintain the pretense that I’d slept through that awesome morning blow job. I was really hoping for a repeat performance and my involuntary hard-on made my desire obvious. Without saying a word, I took John’s hand and put it on my erection.
John needed no more encouragement than that. He was all over me, hands and mouth touching me everywhere. He was also rubbing his hard cock against me and that felt good too.
When John took my cock in his mouth his hands were busy fondling my ass and he slowly circled my anus with his fingers. He smeared my asshole with some Vaseline and slid a finger into me. I was startled at first but the finger fucking was extremely pleasurable, so I made no objection.
I ejaculated into John’s mouth and thought that would be all the sex for that night. Boy was I wrong. My cum seemed to energize John.
He wanted me to pose for some Polaroid pictures. I’d never thought much about my looks, but John was tremendously enamored by my body. I was well over six feet tall with a swimmer’s physique of long smooth muscles. Blue eyes and blond sun-streaked hair made me an attractive boy.
I agreed to model for the camera. John wanted me to wear nothing but my motorcycle boots. He wanted my cock hard in the pictures and like most teenage boys, I had no problem getting a second erection. Some of John’s stroking and sucking brought my thick nine inches straight out.
After a few shots in the apartment, John wanted to pose me with my Harley which was parked in the alley behind the building. We discovered I had a strong streak of exhibitionism. When John asked me to walk out nude, I shivered with excitement and my cock seemed to grow another inch.
The night was cool but I didn’t feel chilled at all. I did feel submissive and even a little bit girlish as John put his arm around my waist possessively and walked me through the hallways, down the stairs, through the lobby, and out the front door.
It was about 10 pm and there were a few people still on the street. I prayed no cop would see me and none did. I was thrilled by the stares of passing strangers.
After a few erotic poses on the Harley, mostly featuring my big cock and round ass, I took a slow stroll back to the apartment, stopping three times for John to pose me on the street. At that point I was so turned on I was eager to do anything for John and he knew it.
He took me to bed and made me lie face down with my butt elevated by a pillow. He spread my legs, lubed my ass and his cock, got on top of me and took my anal virginity. John’s cock wasn’t nearly as big as mine and after the initial push past my sphincter, it felt wonderful sliding in and out of my ass. Soon, I was pushing back to meet his thrusts.
From then on, I was his submissive sex slave. I reveled in the role. The fact that I was much bigger and stronger than John added to the eroticism.
I made no objection at all when he made me kneel worshipfully at his command and suck his cock. He taught me all the ways to orally service a man. The more perverse the act, the better. I adoringly pushed my tongue as far up John’s asshole as it would go.
A few days later, John took me to a thrift store. He bought me a lace-trimmed apron and made me wear it while I tried on ladies’ shoes at his direction. We finally found some high heel sandals that would fit my big feet. John told me we were going out that night. And I would be wearing nothing but my new sandals, a dog collar, and a leash.
I wore my high heels for the rest of that day. I felt very tippy with the five-inch heels at first. John complimented me on how feminine my legs looked and how the heels made my round butt stick out. He taught me to walk like a woman by tucking my cock and balls between my legs and with my thighs together, taking short steps.
When I could keep my erection under control, I felt deliciously feminine. When John left me to go on an errand, I sucked off two of the elderly residents I met on the stairs and promised to go to their rooms whenever I could sneak away.
At this time gays were actively harassed and prosecuted by the police. The butt fucking I so enjoyed was illegal in every state and men did go to jail for sodomy. Homosexuality was considered a mental disease. The LAPD were known for their brutality to homosexuals and they had entrapment programs.
The public nudity I found so humiliating and exciting was extremely dangerous which added to the thrill for me. Fortunately, John was well aware of the risks and knew how to minimize them. He kept track of the routine beach patrols by the cops and timed our excursions to avoid them.
That night he put the collar on my neck and clipped on the leash and wearing nothing but my high heels and a smile I was once again on public display. Before we set out John had pulled my cock and balls back between my legs. The pressure on my balls was uncomfortable but also erotic.
Our destination was an ‘underground’ homosexual club. John wanted to show off his new fucktoy (me). As for my part, I was more than eager to be shown off. The men there were mostly older than John. A few had dates but most were alone. There was a bar, a few tables with chairs and a small dance floor.
A few men were in drag, but I was the only nude. My big cock had escaped from between my legs before we got to the club and was standing proudly straight out. Needless to say, I got a lot of attention from the moment we walked in. Men were buying us drinks and fondling me all over.
A short guy in a suit asked John for permission to dance with me. John handed him my leash and I followed him onto the dance floor. He put his arms around me and gripping my butt cheeks he pulled me close. I towered over him, standing almost seven feet in my heels.
His strong hands felt heavenly, stroking my ass and thighs. I could feel his cock hardening against my leg. I encouraged him by pulling him even tighter against me. He pulled my head down to whisper in my ear that he wanted to fuck me.
I slid my hand down inside his pants and wrapped my fingers around his surprisingly big cock. I told him I belonged to John but if John said it was OK, I’d like nothing better than his cock inside me.
We made our way back to the bar, his hand on my ass and my hand still holding his cock. John was pretty drunk by then and loudly gave my new admirer permission to fuck me. He then announced my body was available to anyone who wanted it that night. At that my cock jerked and it was all I could do to keep from ejaculating.
My short dance partner led me to a table in a dark corner. He made me lie on my back on the table and pull my legs straight back over my head. He spit on his fingers and inserted two, and then three, into my horny butt hole. He worked his fingers in and out for a minute to relax my sphincter then pushed his rock hard cock balls deep into my ass.
He fucked me hard and fast there. I cried out with excitement and now couldn’t prevent myself from cumming. I shot a wad of cum straight back into my own face. I became aware of other men crowding around and knew they would soon be fucking me.
Hours passed in a euphoric fog of fucking, sucking and being sucked by one man after another. Early in the morning a friend of John’s, Mike, loaded us into his car and drove us back home. John was passed out in the back seat and I sucked his friend’s cock while he drove.
Mike and I helped John into the apartment and we all collapsed on the bed. My dreams were of faceless bodies with hard cocks and when I finally awoke, John was sucking my cock. Mike had left without waking us.
I was famished and scrambled some eggs and fried some Spam. John had a hangover and my ass was sore, so after eating we crashed again and slept through the night.
I no longer worried about whether or not I was a homosexual. I was obsessed with stranger’s cocks and my overwhelming needs for humiliation, domination, and exhibitionism. In the apartment building, my only attire was the spike heel shoes and lace top thigh-high stockings.
The elderly gentlemen I’d sucked off on the stairs were fucking me as often as they wanted and were sharing me with some other oldsters in the building. I wasn’t turning down any men, young or old.
My own big cock was getting plenty of attention from John and some of his friends. I was thankful for my cock’s size and had learned it was exceptionally big around. My hands are quite large and I couldn’t wrap my fingers all the way around it.
After an all-night marathon of sucking and fucking in one of the public men’s bathrooms on the beachfront, I discovered my Harley had been stolen. The shock was profound and the fog of sex I had been living in suddenly lifted.
I said goodbye to John K and left, with nothing but the clothes I’d arrived with. I picked up a few days’ work gathering floating Pacific Ocean Park piers that had been damaged by a storm and resumed my trip to Mexico, hitchhiking now.
That was the first of my two brief, but intense forays into the world of homosexual excess.
