Men on the Make: True Gay Sex Confessions (13 page)

“Nah,” I said, answering his need to break the silence.

“Me either.”

“Why not?”

“Ya know why.” Jojo smirked. “Same reason ya didn’t. Ya want me to flood ya out and I want to flood ya out. Give ya that Grade-A first load.”

“Oh, is that so?”

He chuckled and said, “As sure as I’m trying to walk straight with this thumbtack in my pants.”

“That lead pipe is a major burden to carry, huh?”

“Ya know what it is, partna, ya know what it is.”

We got back to the room and it was as if our brief exchange never happened. He went back to his corner fishing. I went to watching TV. I must’ve fallen asleep because when I woke up
I felt something heavy come across my bare chest. It was him with his fat leaky fishing pole raring to go. Had the lights still been on, I would’ve shown my reluctance. With them off, the freeing clandestineness made me willing to open my mouth.

When the subject came up days earlier, I had informed him that I wasn’t much of a cocksucker. I didn’t get the youthful training experience most knob-slobbers are granted in this world, and later I was “cock-blocked” from trying by a number of pure oral bottoms that genuinely loved dick filling their mouths. So I never really bothered to learn.

When I showed my readiness to at least try, Jojo knelt on the bed next to my crooked head, slowly squeezing the rubbery foreskin against my flickering tongue. I felt silly at first. It didn’t taste good. More than that, I didn’t know for sure if what I was doing was doing anything for him. Then silly became erotic when he started to tickle the outer rim of my hole. From there, it got a little scary when he mistook my youthful enthusiasm for readiness to get face-fucked. He made up for his misguided excitement by sucking me off, too. There we were in this sick sixty-nine, me imitating him every step of the way and understanding the hype, when he abruptly changed the game plan by clipping the back of knees and rolling my puckered hole up to his mouth. He spit, then licked and dove right in.

“Oh, motherfucking shit, you didn’t!” I screeched loudly, taken aback by this novel sensation.

Jojo didn’t hear a staggering word. He just held me tight and ate me out as I squirmed against his strong unrelenting grip.

After a while, he did relent, spinning his body and making his way down to my feet where he took my toes into my mouth. He did this with a certain purpose, one by one, looking for something in particular. I didn’t know what it was. But once he found it, I understood fully.

There were no words to express the raw whorishness I felt when my poor puckered asshole flared open like that. I was already wet back there, but for another first, my bootyhole had this serious hankering to fit some dick in it. Jojo sucked that second toe on my left foot until I was ripping holes in the sheets, begging to be fucked silly.

“So ya really want this lead pipe, huh?” Jojo asked, toying with me arrogantly.

I had lost too much breath and some consciousness throughout this ordeal to really answer him coherently. I could barely scream against the excruciating pain as he diligently slipped the tip of his dick into my hole.

The torturous hell it took for him to get all the way inside of me felt like an eternity. When he got it in and held it there for about five minutes, I felt hurt and jam-packed right there on my back. Then, as if someone had cast a spell on me, I began to feel my spine tingle and my butthole flutter against him, opening to this whole new wonderful world.

I had been hesitantly fucked a handful of times before, but being fully broken in was a first. With every lunge Jojo delivered, I wanted to scream things that no self-respecting man should ever want to scream aloud. I stayed in reasonable control, though I came close to losing it a couple of times when I thought I had no tight grip back there, because I was just that opened. The weird thing was that there wasn’t anything particularly unique about Jojo’s dick. It wasn’t overly big or long like the size queens like to sell good sex on. It was average, six, possibly seven inches and generic in circumference. It wasn’t the dick that simply felt good. It was the calloused hands, the strong, work-hardened muscles, the urgent stamina to want to own my ass that made the ride worthwhile, that made me feel extremely comfortable in wrapping my powerful legs around his chunky torso while he fucked me good.

Covered in sweat, I felt Jojo’s strong muscles begin to tighten over me. He had called out several times over the eighty-three minutes we fucked that he was ready to shoot. This time he was for real, drilling like he was drilling for oil with each stroke until he slammed into my well-stretched hole with all his might, and I felt his dick tremble and shake and throb with its substantial load.

Jojo was an avid condom user, but it wasn’t until he came that I realized he had no such thing on. I felt mildly safe nevertheless because he got tested regularly. But my greater concern after he pulled out was the amount of semen he had dumped into me. He filled me up to the brim. With my legs in the air, I was afraid to move. Suddenly I was hit with this urge to push it out. I was nervous and scared, but went for it anyway as I began to feel his burning hot jizz rush down my crack and onto the sheets beneath me. I barely touched my dick when it sputtered its own thick wad of cream at my waistline and down on the bed.

Jojo and I fucked around terribly for three years after that. The first couple of months or so it stayed just me and him before we brought others back into our mix. We probably would still be going strong to this day if it wasn’t for the last six months of our fling. I was tired of being his exclusive bottom, and pressed for us to switch roles. He agreed. The more I fucked him the less he wanted to fuck me back. The more I treated him like a friend and equal fuck partner, the more he wanted to act like my man, kicking his girl and everybody else to the curb. Eventually I had to do the same with him.

We still hook up occasionally before heading our separate ways. Sometimes it still feels good to grope a big bicep and cuss a little.

LATE-NIGHT LOCKER ROOM

Jay Starre

I
t was one of the hottest experiences I have ever had. And it wasn’t at a bathhouse or sex club or gay beach, but of all places, at work. It was totally unexpected and it happened with someone I had no idea would turn out to be such a downright nasty boy in the end.

At that time I worked as an iceman on a Zamboni. I drove the ice machine around the skating rink to clean the ice. I also played hockey regularly at the drop-in games as a goalie.

Most everyone knew I was gay. I hadn’t tried to keep it a secret but didn’t wear a sticker advertising it either. I’d let a few people know and the gossip machine took care of the rest. Regardless of that, I was a very popular guy at the rinks. Not only did I take care of the ice for all the players and skaters, I was in high demand for those pick-up games.

I was on a night shift, midnight to eight in the morning, the night it happened. This was the worst possible shift for me. Not a night person, I much prefer being cozy and warm in my bed. No
matter how much coffee I drank I was always fighting off sleep and had to keep as busy as possible to get through the shift.

After the last team was off the ice, I did my final run of the night with the Zamboni, then went to work cleaning the lobby, the stands and the locker rooms. I had one assistant, Ryan, who helped out from midnight to four.

I was working on the last locker room when he reported in.

“I’m done, Jay. Can I head out now?”

“Sure, Ryan. Thanks for all your help. The back door in the Zamboni room will lock behind you. See you tomorrow night.”

Ryan was a shaggy, redheaded university student working weekends and nights. He was quiet, diligent and a hard worker. I always let him leave a little early because of it. I believed he appreciated it—but I had no idea how much.

Now that he was leaving, I would be alone. The first hockey teams wouldn’t arrive for practice until 5:30. I had ninety minutes of privacy. I knew exactly what I was going to do with the first half of it.

Newton Arena was decades old. It had been renovated a few times, but a couple of the locker rooms were still original. The one I was in had two separate shower stalls that were lined with blue tile that had to be out of the fifties. I actually liked it better than the newer stainless steel and gleaming white tiles of the other changing rooms.

I’d sprayed down the shower stalls with a concentrated antiseptic soap and hosed them clean so they sparkled. I always did a thorough job of it, but that night I had an extra incentive. Whenever I worked night shift, I took a long steaming-hot shower for my lunch break. It relaxed me so much I often ended up dozing under the hot spray. It certainly soothed away the aches and pains of the job.

Now and then I did more than just doze under the hot water. This night was one of those times. Assuming Ryan was gone, I stripped down quickly. I’d brought my gym bag with me into the locker room in preparation for the bit of nasty fun I had planned. Out of the bag I retrieved a big bottle of lube—and a big black dildo!

In no time I was on my back on the floor of the stall with the hot water spraying down on me. Lubing up, I began jerking off while I slowly fed myself the tapered head of the slippery dildo.

It wasn’t that thick but it was fairly long and could reach spots inside that had me quickly groaning. I planted my heels on the tiled lip of the shower entrance and spread my legs wide. Closing my eyes, I fantasized someone seeing me like that, spread-eagled and grunting as I pumped a black dildo in and out of my hefty white ass.

The feeling was sensational. The steamy heat of the cascading water beat down on my face and chest while pooling around me on the slippery clean tiles. The lube was slippery on my stiff cock as I slowly beat off, and there was that deliciously aching pleasure of the latex dildo digging deep in my gut.

Suddenly, my sensual reverie was interrupted. Out of nowhere, I felt a warm hand sliding around my own as I pushed that dildo deeper in my ass.

My eyes snapped open and I found myself facing a pair of sky-blue orbs and a grinning, very red-faced Ryan.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself. You looked so fucking hot with a dildo up your ass!” He was flushed crimson and visibly shaking, but to his credit, he had the guts to brazenly speak his mind.

I was naturally startled by his sudden appearance and surprised that he would be acting as he was, but I wasn’t embarrassed. I am a little bit of an exhibitionist by nature and had
always been comfortable being naked around other guys. I spent a lot of time in locker rooms playing sports, either swimming or hockey, and got off on the other guys checking me out. I was well built, at six feet tall and two hundred pounds of solid muscle. I was proud enough of my body and my looks.

And it wasn’t the first time Ryan had seen me naked. Like almost every other male who worked at or hung around an ice rink, he played hockey. We had changed together after a number of pick-up games we both played in.

I decided not to ask why he was still there, or ask anything else that might spoil the unexpected and very electric moment. “You better get naked too. You don’t want to get all wet.”

His grin got bigger and his face even a little pinker. He had a very sweet look about him, with wide-spaced blue eyes and that shaggy hair framing an oval face and pixie nose. He looked very innocent, but I can tell you, looks can be deceiving!

I remained on my back with my feet up and continued to jerk off and pump that dildo in and out as he stripped in record time, then stepped into the shower to join me.

He got down between my legs and reached for the dildo again. His hand replaced mine as we stared into each other’s eyes and smiled.

“You are so fucking hot,” he said.

“I can say the same for you. But I didn’t guess you were into this kind of nasty stuff.”

“Why not? I’ve always had the hots for Daddies, especially sexy muscle-bound ones like you.”

I laughed and then groaned as he pushed the dildo deeper than I’d tried yet that night. I should have guessed that our age difference might be part of his decision to take his chances with me that evening. At forty-one, I was twenty years older than him—definitely the Daddy type in his eyes.

“You’ve got such a fucking massive chest! Can I suck on it?”

“Feast away,” I said with another groan as he pumped the dildo in and out and stared down into my eyes.

When he leaned down and wrapped his lips around my left nipple, his lower body was within reach. I couldn’t resist the temptation to cop a feel. After all, he was shoving a dildo up my ass and sucking on my tit. How could he object if I groped his sweet round butt?

He moaned loudly as he slurped over my nipple while his ass rose up in the air and wriggled around my fingers in his crack. That was a signal I couldn’t mistake! I reached over to the bottle of lube beside us on the floor of the stall and quickly upended it to squirt lube down his crack. My fingers slid around in the smooth crevice until I found the hole. Tight! But as I stroked it with a fingertip, it quivered then pouted and I was able to slide inside with the help of the slick lube.

He licked around my nipple while his entire body jerked. I slid my finger deeper between the snug asslips and then twisted it inside the heated cavern. His body jerked again. I’d definitely hit his prostate! He returned the favor by gently biting at my nipple and burying the dildo even deeper inside my ass.