Date: Sun, 11 Jan 2004 12:12:09 -0500 From: David Waugh Subject: Looking-for-sex-5 Looking-for-Sex, Chapter 5 Copyright c 2003 by David Waugh. All rights, except those expressly transferred by the author, are strictly reserved to the author alone. No part of this work may be reproduced, except for single copies of the work and excerpts used by a reviewer, by any means whatsoever, unless a written permission is provided by David Waugh. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, whether living or dead, is strictly coincidental and unintended. The story contains material directed to an adult audience and involves gay relationships, including sex, between adults and minors. It is not intended to promote or otherwise condone such relationships, only to describe them as they may exist in reality. If this kind of literature offends you, or if you live in a state which places age limits on your right to access this type of material, please read no further. Looking-for-Sex-5 The following year, when I turned 9, my class got reassigned to a new coach, Andy. He was a hefty man of about 25, somewhat rotund, very blond and pink, like a piglet. His round face was always smiling, but his forget- me-not eyes hardly ever did. He put me on guard. It's not that I did not like him, I just did not trust him. On the whole, I found him quite pleasant to deal with but not terribly attractive: we called such people "a pleasant peasant." Perhaps that's why I did not initiate any contact. Andy was a cross-country ski aficionado (the administration, afraid of liabilities, did not allow students to do any other kind). So he arranged to have all students go skiing twice a week. They let us go early from school, at about noon. Then we would gather at the subway station at 2, arrive in the park at 3, and stay there till 6. One was lucky if one staggered home by 8 pm. I realized, even then, that the arrangement required a lot of ingenuity and flexibility on Andy's part, as well as on the part of the administration. And yet I hated it. Why? Well, I was lazy. I liked skiing all right, but to leave home twice a week at 1 pm and come back at 8 was just too much. So, I played hooky. Then, one day, as I was going home, I bumped into Andy in the street. He looked me over from head to toe and said, "Why did you stop coming to the ski meets?" "It's too far and takes too much time," I answered truthfully. "And then I am awfully tired the next day." "Everybody does it, and no one's complaining." "Oh, they do, but not to you," I said. "Why not?" he asked. "I guess they are afraid to say anything." "And you are not?" "Should I be?" I asked evasively. "All right, he said. "I want to see you in my office tomorrow, at noon." Mentally, I told him where to go and what to do, but I could not avoid a direct order. The next day I went to his office. Andy greeted me as usual, then locked the door and said, "You behave like a." I don't know what word he was going to use, but judging by the fact that he did not, it had to be pretty bad. "I don't want other students to stop attending my class. But they will if they see that someone doesn't and suffers no consequences. How can I make sure that you attend the ski meets?" "Easy. Make it worthwhile for me," I said. "How?" he asked sitting down on the edge of the desk. He sat with his legs wide open. I was tempted. "Tell me," he insisted, "don't be afraid." "Let me touch you there," I finally said and pointed a finger between his legs. I fully expected to be hit, at the very least slapped. But as my finger stopped within an inch of his privates, he merely stared at me in surprise. Then he laughed, went to the door, locked it, and came back to where I was standing. "So, you wanna fuck?" he asked me in a low but clear voice. I nodded. Actually, I was a bit confused. I knew what fucking meant, and that was not what I wanted to do. I was curious about adult men's sexual organs, I loved touching them, feeling them. And that was all I really wanted to do. But I felt that if I said "no," Andy would lose interest. So I nodded, "yes." He then sat on the edge of his desk and said, "Drop `em." I undid my belt and pulled down my pants together with my underwear and just stood there, watching him watching me. He looked at me licking his chops. I looked down at my own privates and wondered why anyone would want to "play" with me: bald, small, and utterly uninteresting. And yet, Andy was staring at me with real interest, I would even say fascination. Encouraged, I stepped forward, - one little step for humanity, a giant step for me - and touched him there, enjoying the feeling of fullness and great mass that I could feel through the relatively thin fabric of his pants. Then, as he got off the desk and stood "at attention," I unbuckled his belt, and pulled down his pants, then his BVDs. His nakedness was luminous: he had a short but bulbous dick overgrown with blond hair and heavy low-hanger balls that were clearly visible in the bush. But on the whole, I did not like him naked: he was too pink, too unmasculine. At that point he turned around, as if to show me his crack and lifted his right leg to demonstrate his testicles. Then, in one clean swoop he cleared the desk and said, "Lie down." I did, but found the desk top much too hard. Andy noticed that. He took his jacket and put it on the desk. For pillow, we used my school bag. It was less than convenient but ok. "Stretch your legs," he said and stood at the other side of the desk, looking up my body through between my legs. He then touched me lightly between the legs, and said, "How old are you? Nine? You have a good set." And started playing with my balls. I let him play for a couple of minutes, then said, "I want to touch you too." So, he moved to the side of the desk and stood with his groin "staring" me in the face while I greedily touched him everywhere: his thick dick, the hair, the nuts. As I played with his privates, Andy developed a strong erection. I say "strong," because his dick stood all the way up, close to his tummy, exposing his heavy balls. When I tried to bring it down, Andy stopped me. "It hurts," he said. "Sorry." I had never seen such an erection. Even my penis didn't go beyond 45 degrees. "Have you ever been fucked?" he suddenly asked touching my behind. "No." "Have you sucked?" "No." "What have you done then?" "Just jacked off, touched someone," I explained reluctantly. "With a pal from school?" I did not feel like offering him any explanations - did he expect a list? - so I said "yupp." "Well, if you are sure you want to, suck me. You've got to start some time," he said pointing his average-sized dick at my mouth. Why do I want to start some time, I wondered? I was comfortable playing with men's balls, I loved that. But sucking their dicks? Or letting them insert their "thing" in my ass? Yukk. "Wash it first," I said because I have always been squeamish. "Oh, it's clean, I took a shower this morning. Please!" I looked at him quite a bit surprised. Wasn't it funny? Here was this big grown-up man with his hairy prick begging me to take it into my mouth! Well, at least he wasn't trying to force me, flashed in my mind. I hesitated and finally took it in my mouth. Although it didn't look big, the head alone easily filled my entire mouth cavity. And he was already holding my head to make me take the rest of his organ. I gagged. "I cuhn't!" I said spitting out his penis. "It's just too big." "OK, turn around." "You want my ass?" "You never tried that either?" he asked. "No." "Well, you have to start some time," he said. "Why? I am not big enough yet. I can wait." "Well, I can't. You are like a piece of prime beef," and he licked his chops. "Well, ok, let's try it," I finally agreed. "But if it hurts, you will stop, won't you?" I asked with perfect naivety. "Sure." He turned me around, grabbed a tube of Vaseline that appeared out of nowhere, and slowly worked a glob into my ass. It did not hurt, but it was not pleasant either. He massaged my asshole for a while until I was bored. Then, he put his organ against my hole and started to push it in with slow circular motions. He was trying to be gentle, but the pain was ferocious: his penis was just too big. I squirmed. Since then, I have read it repeatedly that many people enjoy anal sex, even the first time. But I most certainly did not. I moaned. "Ok, you try it. Adjust it any way it's convenient," he said and put both his hands on my buns. With my right hand I reached behind and circled my fingers around his dick. I tried it at different angles and at different depth, but I could not find a position that did not hurt. "I am sorry, I can't," I said and sat up. In the process I almost twisted his prick. "Watch it!" he cried out popping his dick out of my ass with a funny sound, not unlike uncorking a bottle of wine. "You are not a girl," he finally said trying to play on my masculine pride. "It only hurts girls, and only the first time." "Well, it sure hurts me, it hurts something awful." "All right," he sighed, "do it with your hands. Hold my nuts in one hand and jack me off with the other." I did, much to my and his satisfaction, although his was mixed with irritation. But he, evidently, hoped that eventually he would tame me. He didn't. We saw each other once a week, the whole semester, until we were both bored with each other. And then, on winter break, he went skiing in the mountains and found someone else, and that was the end of our relationship. * * *