Date: Tue, 29 Mar 2011 16:35:37 -0700
From: oldfogey2011@hotmail.com
Subject: LA Pier

When I was 13 my parents bought a two bedroom house in Willowbrook south of
Los Angeles and between Watts and Compton.  The was early during WWII and
the living arrangements were rather weird.  Besides my parents, there were
my sister and I to share the two bedrooms.  As a consequence, my sister
slept with our mother, and I share the other bedroom with our father.  When
her tired of coming home from his night shift to a bed wet with semen from
my masturbation session he built a place for me in the back yard.

While I had automatically learned to masturbate, I was totally ignorant
about sex but at the same time extremely curious wanted to see a naked
woman.  I talked to a friend who lived nearby about it, and he said that
would set up a strip poker session with us and his sister with the idea
that she would lose all of her clothes quickly.  Alas, when the session
actually occurred, I was the one who lost their clothes.

Still curious I started going to the Long Beach Pike to see the girls in
bathing suits, though there were none as skimpy as they are today.  I would
catch the Pacific Electric red car and ride to Long Beach and head for the
Pike and Cyclone Race pier.  There were some cabanas for clothing changes
on the beach, but there was a fee for using them so many people (especially
teenagers) found places under the pier to change.  The end of the pier was
100 or so yards from the water except during very high tides or storms.

When I arrived at the pier, I would find a spot near one of the areas where
women and girls changed into and out of the swimming gear in the hopes of
seeing them naked.  Usually, they came in small groups of five or so and
one would stand watch while the others changed, but I had found a place
where I could watch without being scene.  On one nice warm summer day, I
was watching hopefully when several older girls, High school or a bit older
came and started changing.  They had all stripped naked and I could see
their bare tits and hairy pussies.  I was stroking my instant hard-on when
one of them somehow noticed me and started chasing me.  Bare-assed, she
couldn't follow me out from under the pier, but I also didn't want her to
catch me or the bunch of them to vent their anger on, so I headed off the
beach and up to the amusements area of the pier.

Once on pier, I checked out the Fun House where I could sometimes sneak in
and the Cyclone Racer where I could occasionally get a free ride.  There
were also various things to eat, but my only income was from delivering
newspapers, and money was very scarce.  This wasn't turning out to be my
day, but I thought that I would hang out a bit and then try seeing some
more girls back into street clothes before I headed home.  Eventually I had
to take a piss while I was loafing about and headed for the men's room.

The men's room appeared to be deserted and I was still horny from seeing
the naked young women, and I was happily stroking my half-hard cock when
someone said: "Psst!  Come over here with that."  I looked about, but
didn't see anyone at first.  One of the stall doors opened wide and a man
beckoned to me with his hand and repeated more urgently: "Come over here
and I'll help with that."

I had no idea just how he was going to help me with my hard cock but went
over.  He pulled me into the stall with him and closed the door.  Once I
was inside, he pulled trousers down to my knees and took my cock in his
mouth.  This was totally new to me, but it felt very good.  While he sucked
on my he stroked his own hard cock.  It took only a few minutes of this to
make me some in his mouth, and about the same time he shot his own load of
cum onto the floor.  Quite abruptly after wards, he pulled several dollar
bills from a pocked and handed them to me, pulled his pants up and said the
he had to leave.  I put my own clothes in order and left as well, but he
was nowhere in sight.

For the next several weeks, I would remember the feel of the mouth on my
cock and get hard and beat off often.  Because my only transportation was
my bicycle, walking, or the red cars, I would often hitch-hike to various
places.  Far fewer women drove at the time, so it was usually a man who
picked me up, Some of the latter would put a hand on my leg as they drove.
When I didn't move my leg or object they would stroke my cock through my
pants, and I would immediately get hard.  If they were unable to get my
pants undone, I would open them myself and get my cock out for them.  The
driver would find some relatively isolated place to pull off the road and
then give me a blow-job.

A bit later, I started taking the red car to PE's terminal in LA and cruise
a park nearby where men hung out looking for partners.  Some would take me
to a movie theater, and we would find seats as far as we could from others
so that the man could suck me.  On a few occasions, men took me to their
own rooms where they showed my pictures of naked women and in various
sexual activities.  I always got excited very quickly and thoroughly
enjoyed the sexual attention and occasion gifts from the men.

In all of the early years, it never occurred to me to suck the man off in
return.  I wasn't until years later when I was getting a divorce from my
first wife and started going to the gay bath houses in San Francisco that I
started sucking cocks in return.  There was one place, the Ritch Street
Baths, that I especially liked. And would go a coupe of times a month,
sucking five or sis guys and getting sucked by several as well.



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