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BASTARDS WHO FUCKED OVER ME
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Today's mail--
Date: Mon, 15 Jul 1996 13:15:17 -0700
From:
To: pauless@rahul.net
Subject: Re: Queen Paul!
> If you are working at [.....], you will sooner or later find
> tastelessness to report on.
There has been surprisingly little tastelessness here.
. . . . .
> P.S. It is perfectly normal for you straightboys to pop wood
> reading my stories.
Damn right I'm sporting wood! I don't think you'll find to
many of us hetboys on alt.tasteless embarassed by the st(r)ain in
our shorts being caused by your writings. Imagine, Paul:
thousands of stiffies being raised simultaneously around the
world in your honor.
* * * * *
People, this is more than I can bear. But don't stop, don't
stop, ah ah ah ah don't stop! I never thought myself physically
attractive enough to be a dicktease, but I guess I'm doing a
pretty good job with words. Let's keep going, here...
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11 Raymond and the four-inch nail.
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I hit a dry spell between the time I was forcefully divorced from
Freddy and the time I took up with Keith. I had a few fleeting
romances and furtive feel-ups to tide me over, but, by and large,
my fist and a couple of make-shift dildos became by best friends.
One of these ships in the desert was Raymond who lived two
streets over from where Freddy had. Raymond reminded you of
Little Abner from the Al Capp comics because of his shuck of
unruly straight black hair. He got me over to his house on some
pretext, I remember that much, and we somehow got into the let's-
have-a-jack-off-party mode. Raymond had a nice post on him,
nothing I would be afraid to handle, and it had a very helmet
head to it. His hand wasn't going to fly off the end of _that_
thing! I offered to let him stick it in my butt, thinking that
such an unusually shaped cock would feel really different and
good, but he didn't go for it even though he'd heard from Freddy
I was a good fuck.
Raymond was more into exhibitionism than anything. He'd whack
off standing part of the time, then sitting, then kneeling -- he
kept moving around but rarely lost the rhythm of his stroking. I
think more than anything he just wanted somebody to watch him
beat his meat. After one or two session of this, going away
hungry on one end and unfilled on the other, I got bored and
didn't come back. He sought me out for yet a third exhibition.
This time he added a kicker to the show.
He had a four-inch carpenter's nail which he'd apparently
polished to a fair-thee-well. He wet the nail thoroughly by
putting it in his mouth and then began inserting it into his
dick! I couldn't believe what I was seeing. And in about five
seconds I could no long find my own dick. It went back into my
abdomen so far I thought it would never come out again! That
little show was just too kinky to be comfortable. I never went
back and if Raymond came to the house, I never knew it because I
told my mother to tell him I wasn't home.
(
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