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BASTARDS WHO FUCKED OVER ME
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4 Freddy and me in the chicken coop
After the sort of miscarried affair with Lloyd, I had a sexual
famine. I was used to getting boned with fair regularity and now
my supply was completely cut off. But Glub provides and did so
in the form of Freddy who moved into a house across the alley and
down a few from us. One afternoon I was hoeing weeds out of the
back fence when this stocky blond blue-eyed kid with a
mischievous grin sauntered up the alley. He said Hi and that he
was new to the nieghborhood. He said also that he'd heard
stories about me. Oh, I asked, what kind of stories? Well,
Freddy said, some of the guys around here say you have a pretty
good ass on you.
Oh, is that so? Yeah, he replied, And I'd like to get in on some
of your action. I couldn't say Freddy was anything like a
shrinking violet. I asked him where he thought we were going to
go, and what he thought we were going to do once we got there.
Freddy said no one was home at his place and we could go there.
How convenient. Have you ever done this before, I asked him.
No, he said, But I'm getting tired of my fist and your butt looks
pretty good to me. With that said, he poked his fists into his
Levis pockets and pooched out his package to make it look
impressive.
When we got to his house, he undid his buttons and hauled out a
hand width of rigid cut boycock. A pair of tiny pink nuts were
drawn up tight against it as if to protect their leader from this
awful faggot. I asked, What have you got to use for grease? He
went to the dresser and got a bottle of Fitch's Hair Tonic. He
rubbed a generous quantity on his pecker and told me to bend
over. I hiked my pants down and bent over the side of the bed.
This wasn't going to be a romantic scene on a warm Arizona
evening. Freddy started poking his meat around in my crack and
seemed unable to find the bull's eye. I finally had to guide him
in. He inserted himself timidly but completely until his little
pink balls were smashed up against my buttcheeks.
We started the familiar in-and-out when a car drove into the yard
and stopped. Oh, shit! It's my folks, said Freddy. We broke
apart like scalded cats and got our pants up in record time. His
father wasn't too pleased to see that his son had brought a
stranger into the house. They said Howdy and declared there was
family business to take care of and so we will see you another
time. In other words, Get out. Whew. I went back to my hoe and
weeds. I kept sniffing at myself. I could smell the cheap
perfume of that hair oil. I wondered if anyone else would notice
it.
I'd about finished my chore when here came Freddy again. He
asked if we could start in from where we left off. I asked,
Where do you think we're going to go _now_, wise ass? He asked
if I had a room of my own. I told him I didn't but I had a den
in the back of the workshop, only we couldn't go there now cuz my
dad was too close by. Freddy suggested we go out on the river
bed. I countered the sun is still up and we'd both fry. Besides
that, anyone could walk up and see what we were doing. I didn't
know who had been telling tales about me, but I figured whoever
it was must've praised my cooch to the skies for him to be this
anxious to squirt dicksnot into me.
The house next to his was vacant! I should have remembered that.
We went over and tried the kitchen door. Locked. The front door
was locked, too. We went around back again and looked at the
utility building. It was open so we went inside. Unfortunately,
it had been used as a chicken coop and looked the part. There
was chickenshit white stuff all over everything. The only good
part was it was all bone dry and didn't smell much anymore.
We found a stack of newspapers outside and laid them out on a low
shelf affair to make a rack. It was there, on a hot and sweaty
summer afternoon, that I finished taking Freddy's cherry of
inexperience. My ass was still greasy from the hair oil and some
sweat. I think his dick was too. I had to teach him to aim _up_
my poopchute and not try to bang a hole in the side. If he came,
he certainly didn't act it. There was no grinding around or
moaning or anything unusual, just some labored breathing. He
pulled out, put his cock away, and said Thanks, that was real
good. This was a first -- gratitude.
Freddy soon replaced Gilbert as my regular spoo donor. We Did It
a couple of times in my den, but I didn't like for us to fuck
there because Freddy liked to bang me. The cot made a lot of
creaking noises. If our dog was outside, he would get upset and
start barking. One evening Freddy came over and said, Let's go
out on the river bed, I have something to show you. Okay, I
said.
I wondered if he wanted to have sex again but figured if we were
going out on "the desert" we wouldn't be. We took off for a part
of it I wasn't too familiar with although I'd noticed a stand of
overhanging mesquite trees way out there. When we came to the
trees and ducked to get under the low branches, what did I see
but a discarded mattress and box spring. Freddy had brought a
worn old blanket from his house to cover them with. He even
found a wood produce box to use for a table. We had our own
boudoir!
The sun had just set and so there was light enough for us to see
what we were doing but not enough for anyone to peer into the
stand of trees. This time we were alone enough and hot enough to
get completely naked and completely wild.
I'd never paid too much attention to Freddy's body, in fact I
don't think I'd seen much more of it than his crotch and thighs.
In turn, he hadn't seen more of me than my full moon ass. He
took off his tailless "sport" shirt and gave me my first full
view of his chest. He was beginning to have muscles. Sitting on
the edge of each budding pec was a copper nickel tit. They had
erected in the cool breeze and stood out from the rest of him
like tack heads.
I followed suit by removing my shirt and my teeshirt. I always
wore an undershirt because I was self-conscious about having
"titties". My mother was one of the largest-breasted women I
ever knew of. Unfortunately for my sense of maleness, I took
after her a little too much. I sort of turned to the side so
Freddy wouldn't get a head-on view and be surprised all at once.
He wasn't the best fuck I had, but now he was the steadiest and I
didn't want to frighten him away. Let me look at you, he said.
I turned to face him and thought to myelf, Here it comes. Freddy
reached out and cupped my left booblet. Then he took hold of the
right one. I knew I was flaming red in the face. He whispered,
Wow! That's niiiiice... I couldn't believe my ears.
Can I suck on 'em? Hey, I wasn't about to turn him down. I
liked to rub my tits when I jacked off. I thought having
somebody tonguing them would be super. IT WAS! He fell to like
a starving lamb and just worked my tits like he'd been doing it
all his life. I was in heaven and had to make him stop a couple
of times because, strange as it seemed to me and to him, I
thought he was going to make me cum from titwork alone! We began
trading off sucking each other's nips. I found I had to be a
little more rough with his than I could let him be with mine. He
bit me one time. One time. I smacked him upside the head real
quick.
Pretty soon we were both hot as firecrackers and I was afraid his
gun would go off in midair and stop the celebration. We got rid
of our pants and shorts in record time. Neither of us had any
Vaseline. This time we made do with spit and enough
determination that when his cock sprang into my datehole, it
burned. I didn't care. I wanted that hard little gristle
missile to pound me into the lumpy old mattress. I guess we were
secure enough at last to really let go.
Freddy rammed his cocklet into my hole and nipped me on the neck.
He hissed in my ear, I'm going to fuck you
so hard you'll stay fucked
all week! With a few more bumps and promises, Freddy definitely
came this time. When he rolled off of me he was wet and limp. I
was about the same because contact with the rough blanket sort of
jacked me off and I came about the same time he did.
We laid there for a while to recharge. Freddy asked me what it
was like to take it up the ass, didn't it hurt, and all that.
And howcome does it turn me on when he sucks my tits? Am I part
woman or something? I reasoned with him that he liked it pretty
well when I fooled with his tits, so why did he think it was so
strange I liked to have mine done? I said the only way he would
know what being fucked was like was to be go ahead and _be_
fucked. He didn't want to do that. I ain't your bitch, bitch;
you're _my_ bitch, he said. I think he'd been hanging around his
jailbird uncle a little too much... I liked getting screwed on a
regular basis, but I didn't go for this concept of somebody
owning me.
Nobody ever bothered our lovenest out under the mesquites. All
we had to do to get it ready was shake the sand off the blanket
and go to town. One night Freddy wanted something a little
different. He asked me to suck him off, which was not that
unusual, but he wanted me to stick my finger in his asshole while
I blew him. He wasn't sure if he would like it, so I had to quit
playing with his ass if he told me to. I agreed. I couldn't
believe my good fortune in having a chance at enjoying all of
him. Somehow I knew that when a self-described straightboy who
plays "out of necessity" lets you within ten FEET of his asshole,
he really trusts you. In some ways, hets are far more vulnerble
than queers ever will be.
I reached into the crate we had for a table and poked my finger
into the Vaseline jar. Freddy was on his knees in front of me as
I sat Indian-style. His stiff cock was pointed at my nose. He
used both hands to spread his asscheeks and warned me not to get
cute. I felt for his pucker and found it. It was twitching
slightly and was drawn up tight as a miser's tobacco pouch. I
rubbed his solar plexus with my other palm and said, Ya know,
you're gonna hafta relax a little or this definitely won't feel
good. He sighed and tried.
I pressed with the ball of my finger and held the pressure steady
until I felt his hole yield a bit. I pushed a little more and
got the first knuckle in. I'm glad it wasn't my dick he was
squeezing fit to bite it off. I worked my knuckle in and out
slightly and got him to relax a bit more and to start to trust me
not to hurt him. In a couple minutes I had my finger buried in
his ass and he was squirming around on it just loving it. I
started sucking him and kept on fingerfucking him at the same
time. I was rewarded with the biggest gush of cum he'd ever
produced with me, and he even hollered and grunted because it was
so good to him.
Freddy would never let me try to fuck him. Being the top is not
my preference anyway, but I do like to mess with everything. So
I was glad that we settled into a routine of sorts. When I was
ready to play I could pull Freddy's pants down over his gorgeous
butt globes and rub them and tickle the little coppery hairs he
was beginning to grow. Next I would hear the lid being removed
from the Vaseline and see the jar passed back to me for the
finger dip. Pretty soon I had my middle finger all the way up
his chute and his cock all the way into my gullet. With the
other hand I would pinch his tits and generally explore the rest
of him. When he was close to cumming he'd make me stop all this
and he'd go for my tits and start fingering my ass with the
grease. When we both took our time, we both ended up blasting
each other with amazing amounts of spoo.
We'd go out on the desert to do our thing every couple days.
Without explanation I didn't see Freddy for about a week. I went
over to his house. His old man met me at the back fence. This
didn't look good. He was all, You goddam fucking little fruit!
You gave my boy a disease! I heard about you but I didn't want
to believe it, you bein' pianna player in some fancy church and
all, but I guess you're just another one o' them church
hypocrites! I oughtta go over and tell your father what you are
but I bet he'd kill your stinkin' queer ass. You stay away from
my boy or I'll call the cops!
If you'd touched me with a feather I would have collapsed.
First, I now had overwhelming proof that, though nobody in the
neighborhood ever said anything, they must all have known I am
queer. The second sledgehammer epiphany was the disease bit.
We'd all giggled about getting the clap or the syph but nobody we
knew ever had it. Why, that was something you got from screwing
nigger whores! How the hell did >I< get it?! I was panicked --
afraid that I would be kicked out of my parents's house, afraid I
would go to juvenile hall for the unspeakable crime of being a
sodomite, and afraid my ass would fall open like some old whore's
pussy from having a -- a DISEASE!
Maybe Lloyd was right. Maybe I am on my way to Hell and I'm no
good and I'm evil and everything and the ground is going to just
open right up and swallow me and the next thing I'll be doing is
swallowing the burning acid jizz of Lucifer himself while he
diddles my ass with his pitchfork! A little while later I got a
mysterious phone call. It was Freddy's mother. She said, We
made an appointment for you with the county health department and
you'd better keep it. You go on down there and let them check
you and see what you've got.
Unless you grew up in a conservative place in the pre-hippy 60s,
you have no idea the terror and mortification I felt. Only a
week before, the Arizona Republic ("The State's Greatest
Newspaper") published an article on the front page about a raid
the Phoenix Police Department vice squad pulled on the South
Seas, the only gay bar in Phoenix at that time. The article
contained the names, addresses, and places of work of all the men
arrested. All these people were doing was being social and
having a drink in a place known to be a hangout for homosexuals.
Wild horses could not have kept me from going to the health
department on the appointed day and at the appointed time. I
made up some cock and bull story for my folks about how I called
for an appointment with the doctor. I told them it was a guy
thing and I wanted to go alone. I made arrangements to miss one
afternoon at school. On the surface, at least, they bought into
it. I have no idea how much they knew about me and my reputation
and practices. We never talked about it. If they knew anything,
they were afraid to broach the subject. Obviously, I wasn't
about to do so.
The doctor who examined me at the county offices was some old
ball-headed queen. He treated me exactly like shit. He stuck
his nose in the air and said, Ohhhhh! -- you've been out playing
with your BOYFRIENDS, have you? Well, bend over and let's have a
look. He stuck one of those king-sized q-tip things up my butt
so far and so crooked I thought he would be tickling my belly
button from the inside -- if he didn't make it bleed first. Then
he gave me a penicillin shot with the biggest needle they make,
probably one just for rotten stinking fruits. I found out a week
later I didn't have anything. That was the end of the matter,
thank Glub. I went back to using my fist for a while. I also
began collecting cylindrical items of a certain diameter and
length to I could remember in 3-D what I wasn't getting any more
of...
Freddy and his bunch moved out of the neighborhood shortly after.
I didn't see him again for months. It was just as well. I felt
he had ratted on me. One day he came to our house and asked for
me. We went for a drive and he told me what happened. His dick
started to burn when he peed and he thought he caught something
from me. He was scared and had to tell. Today we would call
what he got NSU, non-specific urethritis. Chances are his
thrusting forced intestinal bacteria into his urethra and they
set up shop in there. That's why it is always best, no matter
how clean you are, to wear your rubbers.
Anyway, he was hella sorry about it all and hadn't had any action
in so long he'd forgotten what it felt like to fuck anything.
Oh, bring on the violins. I wasn't about to get involved with
him again. I let him down as easily as I could, pleading that
the risk of disclosure was too great to be acceptable. Of all my
early paramours, Freddy is the only one who was creative and
considerate enough to take what was available and make a den of
iniquity for us to fuck our brains out in. I have a hunch that,
with a head like that on his shoulders, he went far. (
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