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BASTARDS WHO FUCKED OVER ME
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6 George and his fat sausage, aromatic of the citrus he ate
non-stop.
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There was another fat prick in the neighborhood. His name was
George. He was half Filipino and half Mexican. His parents sure
produced a gorgeous combination. He was slightly stocky without
losing his taper and had the animation of one of the Hawaiian
hunks you see on the tourist posters. George and Gilbert were
macho best friends. Shortly after Gilbert and I were using my
den and his detached bedroom for monkey business, Gilbert
confided in George what was going on.
This was back in an era when you didn't have to lock your doors
unless you were going on vacation or something. Sometimes I
would go hang in Gilbert's bedroom while he was out doing his
paper route. I'd just go over there and be the snatch-in-
waiting. Doing this usually paid off. It reminds me of the
farmer who had the breeding sow. He'd take her over to the next
farm in the wheel barrow to visit the boar. After enough trips,
the sow knew what she wanted and would just climb into the wheel
barrow and wait.
One evening George came over to Gilbert's house looking for him
and found me instead. George made his pitch. He wanted a
blowjob. George didn't have the length Frederick did, but he had
one that was plenty thick. Getting it into my gullet far enough
to do him the good he expected was a real chore. I envied snakes
with a demountable jaw.
George had the least body hair of anyone I have ever seen. He
was just beautiful and bronze. His was the first sphincter I
ever tasted. There wasn't a hair on it and it looked sooooo
inviting. George ate more citrus fruits than any ten people. He
had a mixed orange and grapefruit aroma about him. To this day I
can't smell oranges without thinking of George.
One Sunday afternoon I found him at home alone with no one
expected back for hours. George wanted to do some more serious
play. You sure don't suck cock very good, he said. I felt
insulted -- I don't know why -- and retorted, Well if your dick
wasn't as big as telephone pole-- He hauled it out and started
jacking it and said he wanted to try my asshole.
He put some hair pomade on his meat and started trying to shove
it up my bung. We weren't making much progress. He was grunting
and I was hurting. I was used to Gilbert who had just the most
wonderful-feeling chorizo. George's prick wouldn't get really
stiff anyway. It wanted to bend and slip away from the orifice
he was battering.
We persisted until he finally got himself into my spoopit. Then
he started fucking me in earnest. Of all the people I've been
with, George took the longest to cum of any of them. I never
bothered trying to get mine while he was flailing away because if
I came and he hadn't, the continued action was not only boring
but downright uncomfortable. I had added George to my milk route
but as a last resort. If I couldn't find Gilbert and simply
needed to be reamed, I tried to find George. One time I was so
bored with his selfish detachment that I opened Reader's Digest
and caught up with that month's issue. I also went home with a
sore hole. (
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